CINDERELLA 


Q^  S  .R.CROCKETT 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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Cinderella 


III.;    mitliS    DK     lliK    (J.VKIJKN     .SAN*;    TIIKIK     W  KDDIN  <_;    MAIKH. 


Cinderella 

By 

S.  R.  Crockett 

Author  of  "The   Raiders,"    "The   Lilac  Sunbonnet/' 
"Joan   of  the  Sword   Hand,"    etc. 


New  York 

Dodd,   Mead   and   Company 

1901 


Copyright,  igoo 
By  S.   R.   Crockett 

Copyright,  igoi 
By  Dodd,   Mead  and  Company 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS     •    JOHN    WILSON 
AND     SON      •        CAMBRIDGE,    U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter  Page 

I.    The  House  of  Arioland i 

II.    The  Innocent  Lambs lo 

III.  The  Beast  of  Dead  Man's  Pool       ....  19 

IV.  The  Red  Cross  Knight 25 

V.    The  Master  of  Darroch 36 

VI.    The  Front  Door  Bell  Rings 45 

VII.    Hester's  Fortune 51 

VIII.     A  Mother  in  Ramah 59 

IX.    Megsy's  Romance 68 

X.    A  House  Left  Desolate 78 

XI.  The  Mourning  of  the  Torphichans       ...  84 

XII.  -Dr.  Sylvanus  Dances  a  Breakdown  ....  92 

XIII.  Mcgsy  Tipperlin  Beards  the  Lion  in  his  Den  10 1 

XIV.  The  Minister's  Fortieth  Housekeeper   .     .     .  113 
XV.    A  Glance  under  the  Sunbonnet 122 

XVI.    An  Answer  to  Prayer 130 

XVII.    Hester  in  the  Stranger's  Land 138 

XVIII.  A  Somewhat  Warmer  Welcome       .      .      .      .  144 

XIX.  My  Lord  Darroch  Talks  Business    .      .      .      .  155 

XX.    Her  Grace  of  Niddisdale 163 

XXI.  The  Four  Worlds  of  Empress  Gate      .      .      .  169 

XXII.  The  Comfortable  Estate  of  Matrimony      .      .  174 

XXIII.  Red-Letter  Day  at  the  Manse 180 

XXIV.  The  Way  Not  to  Fall  in  Love 186 

XXV.    The  Way  to  Fall  in  Love 195 

XXVI.    Hester  has  an  Audience 203 

V 


r\inr\K^ 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

XXVII.  Vic  gets  Even 213 

XXVIII.  A  Fairy  Godmother's  Catechism  .     .     .     .  221 

XXIX.  The  Scratching  of  the  Cats 229 

XXX.  The  Magic  Wand 240 

XXXI.  Carus  in  Love 249 

XXXII.  The  Worm  Turns 260 

XXXIII.  The  Two  Cast-Iron  Men 268 

XXXIV.  The  Telegram  on  Carus' s  Table         ...  279 
XXXV.  On  Bail 288 

XXXVI.  The  Case  for  the  Prosecution        ....  294 

XXXVII.  The  Case  for  the  Defence 300 

XXXVIII.  The  Tongue  Can  No  Man  Tame      ...  309 

XXXIX.  Grumphy  Guddlestane 315 

XL.  Naomi  Turns  the  Tables  on  Ruth      .     .     .  323 

XLI.  The  First  Hester 329 

XLII.  The  Grumphy  One  Takes  a  Bath      ...  347 

XLIII.  Dian's  Kiss 355 

XLIV.  Love's  Golden  Weather 365 

XLV.  Ways  and  Means      .      .     .' 375 

XLVI.  A  Masterful  Young  Man 379 

XLVII.  A  Foolish  Chapter,  and  the  Wisdom  of  It  .  384 

XLVIII.  The  Man  who  Had  Been  in  Hell      ...  392 

XLIX.  At  Bay 399 

L.  The  Bolt  Falls 4^4 

LI.  Her  Mother's  Wedding  Dress       .     .     .     .  414 

LII.  Under  the  Canopy 421 

End  Paper 4^^ 


VI 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 
"The  birds  of  the  garden  sang  their  wedding  march  "  Frontispiece 


"  'Hester,  this  is  your  father'  "       .      .      .      .      , 
"  But  now,  in  spite  of  herself,  she  blushed  "   . 
♦'  'Thank  you.  Miss  Martin,'  he  said  "      .      .      , 
"After  this  Hester  had  no  lack  of  partners"    . 
"At  church  she  found  herself  curiously  isolated" 
"  She  was  so  happy  that  it  must  be  wicked  "  . 
"  Sylvanus  did  not  shake  off  his  wife  this  time"  . 


60 
128 
198 
252 

314 

360 

410 


CINDERELLA 

CHAPTER   I 
THE  HOUSE  OF  ARIOLAND 

DAY  broke  hopefully  over  the  old  house  of  Ario- 
land.  The  cock  from  his  high  perch  on  the 
stable  dyke  sent  a  gay  challenge  across  hill  and 
dale.  To  him  in  another  moment  responded  his  brother 
down  at  the  Lincolns.  Nether  Aird  on  its  broomy 
knowe  took  up  the  chime,  the  sound  diminishing  as  it 
receded,  till  that  which  issued  clarion-clear  and  defiant 
from  the  farm-yard  of  Arioland  had  become  delicate  as 
the  tinkling  of  fairy  bells  ere  it  reached  the  dim  blue 
borders  of  the   strath. 

Most  hopefully  of  all  dawned  the  day  of  the  2 1st  of 
August,  1 8 — ,  in  the  little,  beating,  eager  heart  of  Hester 
Stirling.  Usually  she  slept  on  till  from  the  grieve's 
house  she  heard  the  horn  blow  for  breakfast ;  or  she 
struggled  into  consciousness  as  the  horses  came  clatter- 
ing homeward  from  their  morning  spell  of  work,  and 
was  only  fully  awake  when  Megsy  Tipperlin  herself 
entered  with  her  staid  "Good  morning.  Miss  Hester." 
Then  she  watched  Megsy  lay  a  pile  of  neatly-folded 
clothes  on  a  chair,  and  go  to  the  window  to  draw  aside 
the  heavy  curtain. 

Hut  this  morning  Hester  had  seen  the  earliest  rooks 
rise  clamorous  from  beneath  the  black  umbrellas  of  the 
tall  trees  beyond  the  shrubbery.  She  had  opened  her 
window  and  looked  out  when  the  sky  was  only  a  bath 
of  cool  grey  mist,  and  no  man  was  yet  abroad. 
I  I 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

For,  long  expected,  vehemently  desired,  her  cousins 
were  coming  from  the  city,  all  four  of  them,  Ethel  and 
Vic  and  Claudia,  girls  older  than  herself,  and  with 
them  (quantity  deliciously  unknown!)  a  boy  —  a  real 
boy  in  trousers  —  Thomas  Alistair  Torphichan,of  whom, 
ever  since  she  could  remember,  Hester  had  thought  as 
the  bravest,  noblest,  and  altogether  most  exalted  being 
in  the  world.  From  the  time  when  Megsy  Tipperlin 
still  carried  her  over  the  burns  and  up  the  steep  places 
"  Cousin  Tom  "  had  shone  steady  as  a  star  in  the 
tremulous,  imaginative,  eager  heart  of  the  little  girl. 
And  to-day,  at  last,  she  was  to  see  him  in  the  flesh. 

But  before  we  proceed  I  must  tell  something  more  of 
Arioland  and  of  Hester  Stirling. 

The  house  of  Arioland  was  a  pleasant  place  to  dwell 
in.  A  heathery  hill,  that  just  stopped  short  of  being 
a  mountain,  rose  behind  it,  where  you  could  get  lost 
among  the  tall  ling  and  brown  bent  grasses ;  a  broad 
sweep  of  strath  spread  below,  through  which,  now  blue, 
now  grey,  now  flashing  silver,  a  dimpling  river  ran 
over  gravel  that  talked  and  sand  that  only  soughed  and 
whispered.  Then  at  the  front  door  of  Arioland  the 
wonderful  brass  knocker  hung,  shaped  after  the  fashion 
of  a  lion's  head,  not  to  be  touched  save  by  Her  Grace, 
when  she  came  to  call  on  Hester's  grandmother;  or 
Megsy  Tipperlin,  when  for  the  best  part  of  an  hour  on 
Saturday  forenoons  she  stood  on  a  chair  and  breathed 
upon  it,  painted  it  grey  with  paste,  and  rubbed  it  bright 
again  with  the  remote  air  of  a  priestess  of  the  mysteries. 

For  at  Arioland  no  age  of  gold  ever  succeeded  the 
iron  reign  of  Megsy  Tipperlin.  But  its  grimness  was 
of  the  outward  and  apparent  only,  for  the  light  of 
humour  played  about  the  corners  of  Megsy's  mouth 
and  lurked  in   her  steadfast  grey  eye. 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

Megsy  tyrannised  over  every  created  thing  within 
the  walls  of  Arioland,  from  the  hens  that  laid  in  the 
"  baulks  "  to  Mistress  Stirling  herself,  the  "  auld  Leddy 
o'  Arioland,"  as  she  was  called  in  the  easy  Dcbrett  of 
the  country  folks'  speech.  But  iVJegsy's  kingdom  stopped 
at  the  white  wall  about  the  grieve's  house. 

The  farm  of  Arioland,  considered  as  a  thing  of  fields 
and  acres,  was  let  to  one  John  Gowanlock,  a  rich  man 
with  many  farms,  who  came  there  but  seldom  (and  that 
usually  in  order  to  institute  a  little  day  of  judgment). 
But  since  Gowanlock  was  not,  Sandy  the  grieve  reigned 
in  his  stead,  in  a  full-blown  empire,  over  plowmen, 
reapers,  haymakers,  and  turnip-singlers.  Between  all 
of  whom  and  Megsy  Tipperlin  there  was  war  open,  and 
with  the  formalities  declared. 

For  Sandy  MacWhutterick's  empire,  wide  as  it  un- 
doubtedly was,  stopped  short,  even  as  Megsy's  did,  at 
the  white  wall  and  low  stile.  The  shrubberies  were 
not  his,  nor  yet  the  policies  beneath.  Not  his  the 
little  park  that  surrounded  the  avenue  of  the  Big  Hoose 
o'  Arioland  with  a  fringe  of  green.  He  was  indeed 
hemmed  in  on  three  sides  by  rival  potentates  —  this  red- 
headed, rcd-beardcd,  arrogant  Sandy  the  grieve.  There 
was  first  of  all  Megsy,  his  neighbour  to  the  south,  with 
whom  he  was  at  strife  as  to  the  water-rights  and  garden 
privileges.  Then,  in  the  second  place,  there  was  the 
tenant  of  the  Dairy,  to  whom  for  a  consideration  the 
farmer  of  Arioland  sub-let  his  wide  byres  and  sleek  herd 
of  sixty  Ayrshire  kine.  Colin  iVIacKinstrey  was  the  name 
of  the  dairyman,  and  he  was  a  man  out  of  the  North 
country  about  whom  was  growing  up  a  light  militia  of 
strapping  sons  and  vvcll-limbcd  daughters,  whose  tres- 
passes daily  vexed  the  righteous  soul  of  Sandy  the 
grieve. 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

Then,  in  the  third  place,  there  was  his  master,  John 
Gowanlock,  the  one  and  only.  He  abode  at  a  distance, 
truly,  yet  even  upon  the  farm  he  had  eyes  that  spied 
and  feet  that  ran  unseen  to  do  his  bidding  and  bring  him 
word  again.  He  had  a  faculty  also  for  descending  upon 
erring  herds  and  grieves  from  a  gig  —  as  it  were,  a  bolt 
out  of  the  blue. 

But  Saunders  MacWhutterick  (as  he  called  himself) 
was  an  exceedingly  just  man  and  fear  dwelled  not  in 
him.  For  his  work  was  to  him  as  his  God — or  it  may 
be,  since  Saunders  made  no  brag  of  religion,  even  a 
little  more. 

"  The  child  is  not  a  pretty  child.  She  is  brown-skinned 
like  her  father,  and  has  her  mother's  wide  mouth !  " 

This  was  the  dictum  spoken  authoritatively  by  Hester's 
aunt  as,  suddenly  grown  shy  and  awkward,  that  trembling 
mite  stood  clutching  a  corner  of  her  clean  pinafore  with 
one  hand,  while  the  forefinger  of  the  other  went  up 
rustically  to  the  maligned  mouth,  as  if  to  accentuate  its 
width. 

Then  as  Hester  stood  a  moment,  her  heart  beating 
wildly  within  her,  her  eyes  gypsy-dark  and  gleaming,  the 
tall  majestic  lady  took  up  the  burden  of  her  prophecy, 
"  Mother,  you  spoil  the  girl  —  indeed  you  do.  I  said  so 
to  Sylvanus,  my  husband,  only  this  morning.  Where  is 
Sylvanus  ?  Oh,  he  has  been  detained  by  an  important 
case.      He  will  follow  immediately  !  " 

Then  turning  again  to  Hester  Stirling,  she  continued, 
"  Girl,  what  is  your  name  ?  What,  no  answer  !  Do 
you  not  hear  me  speak  ?  And  why  do  you  not  come 
and  kiss  your  cousins  prettily  —  have  you  never  been 
taught  so  much  as  that  ?  Ah,  this  comes  of  indulging  a 
child  for  the  sake  of  a  good-for-nothing  father.     In  my 

4 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

opinion,  that  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  has  done  more 
harm  than  all  the  romances  and  improper  literature  that 
are  all  too  common  even  in  homes  which  call  themselves 
Christian  !  I  was  saying  so  to  Sylvanus  only  this  morn- 
ing !  Oh,  your  name  is  Hester,  is  it?  Hester  Sybilla 
Stirling  —  well,  let  me  see  you  bow  prettily  and  kiss  your 
cousins  !  " 

Hester  did  as  she  was  bid,  but  it  was  with  a  sinking 
at  her  heart  and  a  sense  of  being  thrown  emptily  on  her 
own  resources.  She  wanted  her  grandmother's  rustling 
black  silk  gown  to  cling  to,  or  even  the  corner  of  Megsy 
Tipperlin's  stuff  apron  would  have  been  grateful,  though 
that  always  felt  like  dry  sand  between  the  finger  and 
thumb.  But  now  the  cool  parlour  of  Arioland  seemed 
suddenly  so  wide  about  her.  It  made  her  little  legs  feel 
quite  tottery.  And  her  cousins  were  so  tall  and  stood 
up  so  stiffly  that  she  thought  with  hopeless  awe  how 
good  they  must  be,  and  how  well  taught  and  obedient  to 
their  mothe/. 

Nevertheless,  she  went  staidly  over  to  Ethel  the 
eldest,  who  in  a  careless  and  almost  contemptuous 
manner  held  down  her  cheek  to  her  cousin,  with  the 
contempt  of  city  fifteen  for  rustic  seven.  Then  she 
passed  on  to  Vic,  who  tried  to  trip  Hester  up  by  thrust- 
ing a  foot  out  suddenly  in  front  of  her. 

"I  must  have  been  mistaken,"  thought  Hester,  "she 
would  never  do  that  on  purpose  —  she  is  too  well 
brought   up." 

Nevertheless,  she  liked  Vic  better  because  she  did  not 
even  pretend  that  she  wanted  to  kiss  her.  But  Claudia, 
the  youngest  of  all,  behaved  quite  differently.  She 
took  Hester  about  the  neck  and  kissed  her  on  the  brow, 
keeping  at  the  same  time  an  eye  u|kjii  her  mother  to  see 
that  she  noticed.      She  did  notice. 

5 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

"Ah,  that  is  my  own  swee-eet  child,"  cried  Mrs. 
Sylvanus  Torphichan.  "  Mother,  did  you  see  ?  That 
girl  is  a  wonder,  little  more  than  eleven  years  of  age, 
and  already  a  member  of  ten  societies.  The  Associa- 
tion for  Feeding  Sparrows  in  Hard  Winters  was  quite 
grateful  to  Claudie  last  year.  They  gave  her  a  medal. 
The  dear  lamb  collected  subscriptions  from  all  the 
farmers  in  the  neighbourhood  where  we  went  in  sum- 
mer. A  {c-w  were  rude,  but  eventually  all  contributed 
something.  Claudia  simply  would  not  go  away  without ! 
She  is  quite  an  example  to  all  the  neighbourhood.  Is 
she  not,  Ethel,  dear  ?  " 

Ethel  appeared  to  be  immersed  in  a  brown  study,  and 
did  not  hear  her  mother. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  sharp  little  cry  of  pain  which 
rang  through  the  parlour  of  Arioland,  and  was  heard 
even  of  Megsy  Tipperlin  on  the  stairs,  as  she  was 
coming  up  with  a  tray  of  cleaned  silver. 

"  Oh,  you  hurt !  " 

It  was  the  voice  of  Hester  Stirling.  Her  cousin  Vic, 
watching  her  opportunity,  had  given  the  wistfully 
hesitant  little  figure  a  great  push  against  her  brother 
Tom,  who  on  his  part  instantly  boxed  her  ears,  and  then 
stood  with  arms  innocently  at  his  side  ready  for  the 
turning  round  of  his  mother  and  grandmother.  He  had 
been  at  school  two  years,  and  was  quite  clever  at  that 
sort  of  thing. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  cried  Hester's  grand- 
mother, who  was  busy  with  the  teacups,  "  I  hope  you 
did  not  hurt  yourselves  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;  it  was  only  that  little  Hester  who  was 
stupid,  grandmamma,"  explained  Ethel  Torphichan ; 
"she  stumbled  over  the  hearthrug,  and  then  pretended 
Vic  had  pushed  her  down " 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

"  I  never  did,  you  know,"  said  Vic  stoutly. 

"Of  course  not,  my  dears  —  of  course  not,"  Mrs. 
Torphichan  chimed  in  from  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
"  well-bred  children  are  quite  incapable  of  such  conduct. 
Are  they  not,  Claudia  ?  Does  not  Miss  Martinett 
often  sav   so  ?  " 

"Yes,  mamma,"  said  Claudia,  who  answered  exactly 
like  a  clever  mechanical  doll  whenever  her  mother  put  a 
question  to  her. 

"You  did  not  see  anything  of  this,  Claudia  ?  " 

"  No,  mamma  —  no,  indeed,  mamma.  Victoria  never 
so  much  as  touched  the  girl  —  little  country  silly  !  " 

The  tears  rose  to  Hester's  eager  gypsy  eyes,  making  the 
darkness  in  them  glitter,  and  a  great,  dry,  sandy  lump  rose 
and  hurt  in  her  throat.  Yet  neither  broke.  But  oh,  the 
aching  disappointment,  the  sharp  tooth  of  pain  eating  into 
that  small  heart  which  beat  under  the  white  pinafore. 
No  mere  man  can  tell  of  these.  For  none  can  remember 
all  the  surprised  agony  when  a  child's  first  dream  is  torn 
into  shreds,  when  a  cherished  idol  is  thrown  down  from 
its  pedestal  and  lies  shattered  before  its  veYy  eyes. 

"  Now,  children,  run  and  play,"  said  Mrs.  Sylvanus 
Torphichan,  lifting  her  finger  impressively,  "  and  always 
remember  Who  sees  you.  You  know  Who  that  is, 
don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mamma  !  "  the  three  girls  said  in  decorous 
chorus.  Vic  nudged  Tom  with  her  elbow  when  her 
mother  was  not  looking.      Tom  giggled  audibly. 

"Who  laughed  when  I  spoke  just  now?"  said  the 
lady,  turning  rapidly  about,  as  if  she  worked  on  a  pivot. 

All  four  Torphichans  were  instantly  united.  They 
said  nothing,  indeed,  but  only  ga/.cd  solemnly  and  re- 
proachfully at  Hester,  who  stood  like  a  culprit,  her  knees 
trembling   under  her.      She  longed  to  run   to  her  grand- 

7 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

mother,  and  say,  "  Oh,  please  send  them  away  !  I  want 
just  you  and  Megsy  Tipperlin  !  " 

But  her  grandmother  was  a  little  deaf,  and  also  she 
was  much  fluttered  and  excited  by  the  coming  of  her 
only  daughter,  whose  husband  had  become  so  great  an 
Abercairn  physician  —  some  said  he  would  be  a  professor 
one  day,  but  that  was  perhaps  too  much  honour  to  be 
hoped  for  in  this  world. 

Very  sedately  and  with  their  six  eyes  on  the  carpet, 
their  six  hands  primly  clasped  before  them  a  little  above 
the  waist,  and  their  thirty  toes  carefully  turned  out,  the 
three  girls  departed,  while  Tom  sulked  in  the  offing, 
vainly  trying  to  get  a  chance  to  pinch  Vic  as  she  passed. 

Their  mother  gazed  admiringly  after  them  and  pointed 
out  to  Mrs.  Stirling  their  manner  of  leaving  a  room, 

"That  is  solely  due  to  my  instruction,"  she  said,  "and 
perhaps  a  little  to  being  sent  early  to  Miss  Martinett's 
school  —  in  Rutland  Square,  you  know,  mother,  where 
only  children  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  are  allowed  ! 
The  religious  instruction  is  so  thoroughly  well  attended 
to  and  the  general  tone  is  so  good,  that  one  does  not 
grudge  the  very  high  fees.  At  least,  my  dear  Sylvanus 
does  not.  '  Let  them  grow  up  to  be  models  of  all  the 
graces  and  compendia  of  all  virtues,  as  you  are  your- 
self, my  love,'  he  often  says.  We  are  so  like-minded, 
Sylvanus  and  I,  and  he  does  express  himself  so  beauti- 
fully !      I  never  forget  one  word  he  ever  says  !  " 

She  reverted  to  the  subject  of  Hester,  which  somehow 
obtruded  itself  upon  her  domestic  bliss  in  an  unpleasant 
manner. 

"  But,  anyway,  you  must  do  something  with  that  little 
girl  —  she  is  running  altogether  wild.  What  did  I  tell 
you,  Hester  Sybilla  ?  Don't  poke  your  chin,  it  is  bad 
manners  !     And  don't  stand  with  one  shoulder  touching 

S 


THE     HOUSE     OF     ARIOLAND 

your  ear,  nor  wring  your  hands  as  if  you  were  at  a  wash- 
ing tub,  Now^  I  declare,  you  are  picking  at  your  pina- 
fore!  Oh,  if  Miss  Martinett  only  had  you  for  an  hour! 
Did  you  remember  to  say  your  prayers  this   morning  ?  " 

Hester  had — she  always  did  say  them,  supposing  that 
the  sky  would  ver\'  promptly  have  fallen  if  she  had  not. 
But  she  was  becoming  hardened  to  her  aunt's  pour  of 
questioning,  and  so  refrained  from  all  answer. 

"  Ah,  you  are  growing  up  a  careless,  wicked,  regardless 
girl,  I  can  see  that ;  "  her  aunt  went  on.  "  Mother, 
you  must  trust  her  to  Miss  Martinett,  for  a  while  at  least. 
We  will  change  all  that.  Not  say  your  prayers,  wicked 
girl !  Do  you  know  Who  sees  us  when  we  do  wrong 
and  punishes  us?  " 

"  Yes,"  blurted  out  the  frightened  little  girl,  and 
through  her  unshed  tears  she  added  the  explanation,  "  it 
is  Sandy  the  grieve  !  " 

Mrs.  Sylvanus  Torphichan  lifted  up  her  hands  in  the 
most  pious  .kind  of  horror,  and  made  a  little  clucking 
sound  with  her  tongue  against  the  roof  of  her  mouth. 
Speech  was  denied  her,  and  she  could  only  clutch  her 
reticule  and  extract  therefrom  her  smelling  salts  in  a  red 
bottle  of  the  size  and  appearance  of  a  small  decanter. 
Her  head  fell  back,  and  she  had  just  strength  to  extract 
the  stopper  feebly  and  wave  the  open  bottle  between 
herself  and  the  small  culprit  as  a  kind  of  fumigatory 
against   infection   and   blasphemy. 

"Go!"  she  gasped,  "go,  wicked  girl!  Wicked, 
wicked  girl  !  When  dear  Sylvanus  comes  we  will  con- 
sult with  your  grandmother  as  to  your  future  !  Go, 
and  if  you  dare  to  pollute  my  innocent  lambs,  remember 
where  you  will  go  to  —  a  Place  which  I  will  not  so  much 
as  mention.  \n  addition  to  which  I  shall  whip  you  very 
severely  with  my  own  hands  !  " 

9 


CHAPTER   II 
THE   INNOCENT   LAMBS 

THUS  encouraged,  Hester  Stirling  went  out  to 
find  Mrs.  Torphichan's  innocent  lambs.  But 
the  yearning  gladness  of  the  morning  was  gone. 
The  gold  had  all  greyed  over.  Never  had  idol  been 
more  ruthlessly  shattered.  Yet  this  little  girl  did  not 
cry.  One  or  two  tears  might  have  got  themselves  wiped 
away  at  the  dark  places  of  the  stairs,  but  I  put  it  to  you, 
if  that  can  be  called  crying  ? 

When  she  passed  Megsy  Tipperlin,  she  stared  her 
straight  in  the  face,  and-  to  the  question,  "  Where  are 
you  going,  Hester  Stirlin'  ?  "  she  rephed,  promptly,  "  To 
find  my  cousins  !  " 

"  Foul  fa'  them  !  "  grumbled  Megsy,  fervently,  as  she 
turned  away.  For  Megsy  used  no  respect  of  persons, 
and  in  particular  hated  her  mistress's  daughter,  who  came, 
as  she  believed,  to  Arioland  for  the  sole  purposes  of 
sneaking  into  the  store-cupboards,  counting  the  spoons, 
and  seeing  whether  Megsy  bought  more  flour  and  bacon 
than  she  could  account  for. 

"  May  her  e'en  blear  in  her  held,  the  pridefu'  madam  !  " 
muttered  Megsy,  as  she  made  crosses  and  whorls  of 
pattern  old  as  the  flood  (or  older)  on  the  blue  whinstone 
of  the  kitchen  flags,  "  her  and  a'  her  ill-set  weans. 
They  gang  tearin'  and  gilravagin'  through  ilka  thing 
aboot  the  decent  hoose  o'  Arioland.  Certes,  I  wad 
wheep  them  a'  wi'  briar  tethers  on  the  bare  back,  till 
their  skin  was  in  tatters  —  so  I  wad.     Aye,  an'  lay  it  on 

lO 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

mysel'  —  besoms  that  they  are  !  Gin  they  steer  or  fricht 
my  bairn  —  I,  Margaret  Tipperlin,  that  am  a  Christian 
woman,  will " 

But  at  this  point  Megsy  became  needlessly  particular 
in  her  threatenings,  so  that  the  faithful  chronicler  has  to 
look  away  embarrassed.  However,  she  ended  thus  — 
"  Oh,  that  Maister  Davvid  had  never  gane  awa  —  my 
bonny  lad  —  to  leave  his  wee  bit  lass  to  a  deaf  auld 
woman  (Guid  forgie  me  for  speakin'  that  gate  o'  a  kind 
mistress  !)  and  the  tender  mercies  o'  a  pack  o'  Jezebels 
an'  bletherin'  slowbellies  !  May  the  Almichty  Preserver 
o'  the  weedow  and  orphan  tak'  them  in  His  ain  hand, 
and  daud  them  wi'  the  flails  o'  His  wrath  —  yea,  like 
sheafs  on  the  threshing-floor  of  Abel-meholah  !  " 

The  prayers  of  Megsy  the  daughter  of  Tipperlin 
were  ended. 

Hester  walked  forth  to  find  her  cousins  almost  as 
sedately  as.  if  for  years  she  had  dwelled  with  her  aunt 
Mrs.  Torphichan  and  been  a  favourite  pupil  of  Miss 
Augusta  Martinett  at  the  corner  of  Rutland  Square  in 
the   city  of  Abercairn. 

Perhaps,  after  all,  they  would  be  nicer  when  she  was 
alone  with  them.  She  thought  once  more  of  the  treasures 
she  had  been  saving  up  to  show  them.  Best  of  all  there 
was  Fluffy,  the  half-Persian  kitten,  with  the  languid  eyes 
so  full  of  light  and  the  fascinating  way  of  standing  on 
your  shoulder  and  rubbing  ears  with  you.  Then  in  the 
High  Park  there  was  Peggie  the  Pet  —  a  lamb  of  mature 
years  (or  rather  months)  and  much  elevation  of  mind. 
For  Peggie,  being,  despite  his  name,  a  gentleman  sheep 
and  handsome  withal,  refused  to  consort  with  any  of 
his  kind,  preferring  the  society  of  the  sixty  dairy  cows 
herded  by  the  wild  MacKinstrcys. 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

As  she  went  Hester  heard  the  sound  of  her  cousins' 
loud  voices  proceed  from  the  gardens,  and  with  a  heart 
once  more  eager  to  realise  some  part  of  her  dream  she 
hastened  after  them. 

"  Catch  her  —  this  way  —  at  her,  Dick  !  You  've  got 
her!      Hist  —good  dog  !      Sick  her  then  !  " 

The  cries  grew  louder,  and  Hester,  with  a  wild  fear 
suddenly  taking  possession  of  her  soul,  ran  at  full  speed 
round  the  greenhouse,  past  the  sun-dial,  and  there  on  the 
narrow  ledge  of  a  fence  to  which  she  had  sprung  from 

the  window-sill  of  the  potting-house  stood  Fluffy her 

own  Fluffy,  every  hair  on  end  with  pain  and  anger,  and 
her  tail  well-nigh  as  thick  as  her  body.  She  was  mewing 
piteously  and  flicking  an  ear  that  had  been  bitten  through 
by  the  yapping  fox-terrier  which  still  leaped  and  snapped 
below.  A  drop  or  two  of  blood  had  distilled  down  and 
flecked  Fluffy's  delicate  pearl-coloured  fur. 

Hester  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  She  dashed  through 
the  gooseberry  bushes,  tearing  her  dress  in  several  places, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  was  her  best,  and  she  had  been 
allowed  by  Megsy  to  put  it  on  in  honour  of  her  cousins' 
visit.  In  a  moment  she  had  hurled  her  small  body  be- 
tween Tom  and  Claudia,  who  were  snapping  their  fingers 
and  inciting  Dick  the  terrier  to  yet  greater  exertions. 

Hester  held  out  her  arms,  and  Fluffy,  with  one  glad 
mew  of  recognition,  leaped  into  her  mistress's  bosom  and 
climbed  upon  her  shoulder,  from  which  safe  altitude  she 
hissed  and  "fuffed"  at  Dick,  who  still  leaped  upward  to 
snap  her. 

"Cruel  —  cruel,"  she  cried,  turning  furiously  upon 
them,  "  to  set  a  great  dog  on  my  own  little  kitten.  Tom, 
I  was  going  to  love  you ;  and  I  shall  never  now  —  no, 
never,  so  long  as  I  live,  you  cruel  boy  !  " 

"  Don't  then, "  said  Tom,  sneeringly,  "  who  asked  you 

12 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

to?  You  are  only  a  common  little  country  girl.  1 
wouldn't  be  loved  by  you  —  not  if  it  were  ever  so!" 

"A  nasty  little  beast,  that  scratched  my  darling  Dick's 
nose  —  ugh,  the  viper!  Yes,  Dickie,  dear,  you  should 
worry  her  all  to  bits  if  I  had  my  way  !  "  said  Claudia, 
who  had  taken  the  fox-terrier  up  in  her  arms  and  was 
petting  him.  He  still  struggled  vehemently  to  get  at 
FlufFy,  and  growled  at  his  mistress  when  she  tried  to 
restrain  him,  in  a  manner  which  showed  much  more  of 
indignation  than  affection. 

Hester  was  moving  off  towards  the  house  with  Fluffy 
in  her  arms. 

"  Now  she 's  going  to  tell  on  us  —  sneak  !  "  cried  Tom, 
who  was  looking  for  belated  gooseberries,  and  breaking 
down  the  bushes  with  his  foot  when  he  failed  to  find 
any. 

"She  needn't  trouble,"  sneered  superior  Ethel; 
"mamma  would  not  believe  her,  anyway;  and  poor  old 
granny  is  tqo  deaf  to  hear !  " 

"  Papa  says  she  is  only  a  charity  child,  and  has  no 
business  to  be  living  here  at  all,"  was  Claudia's  contri- 
bution. "This  estate  is  to  belong  to  my  mother  when 
old  granny  dies  —  and  she  can't  last  very  long  now,  pa 
says !  " 

"  Let  the  little  rat  alone,  you ! "  was  Vic's  more 
generous  contribution,  "what's  the  use  of  standing 
nagging  at  her?  Let's  get  off  to  the  woods.  I  mean 
to  have  some  fun  with  the  young  pheasants  and  things, 
like  we  had  before.  They  are  ever  so  tame  —  we  killed 
four  last  time  we  were  down.      You  remember,  Tom  ?  " 

'■^Rz-ther  —  and  I'm  going  to  hunt  rabbits!"  cried 
Tom,  "  Dick  understands  all  about  that.  He's  as  dead 
nuts  on  'em  as  if  they  were  cats.  Eh,  Dick  —  rabliits, 
my  boy  !      Look   at    him,   Vic  !      I^ct   him  go,  Claudia  ! 

'3 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

Come  along  before  we  have  that  crazy  little  Brown  Patch 
tagging  after  us  again  !  " 

Hester  walked  into  the  kitchen  with  her  heart  fairly 
riven  in  two.  She  was  no  tell-tale.  She  had  learned 
that  "  to  be  a  tale-pyet "  was  to  sin  the  ultimate  deadly 
sin.  So  she  only  told  Megsy  Tipperlin  that  a  nasty  dog 
had  been  trying  to  worry  Fluffy,  and  begged  her  to  keep 
her  close  in  the  kitchen  all  that  day.  Whereat  Megsy, 
with  only  a  characteristic  grumble,  took  the  kitten  and 
locked  her  in  the  cool  cheese-room,  a  place  which  Fluffy 
loved  of  all  others  both  because  there  were  fine  fat  mice 
there  and  because  whenever  she  found  herself  shut  up, 
a  plentiful  saucer  of  milk  was  certain  to  be  locked  up 
along  with  her. 

As  Hester  went  out  with  her  heart  still  sea-working 
after  storm,  she  came  suddenly  upon  her  aunt  and  her 
grandmother.  They  were  talking  together  upon  a  stone 
garden  seat. 

"  Why,  Hester,"  said  the  latter  kindly,  "  have  you  not 
been  able  to  find  your  cousins  ?  I  saw  them  going  out 
of  the  green  gate  on  the  road  to  the  wood." 

"  Perhaps  she  does  not  wish  to  be  kind  to  her  cousins 
on  the  one  day  they  have  to  spend  with  her,"  said  her 
aunt.  "  Now,  when  I  was  a  little  girl  and  any  one 
came  to  spend  a  day  with  me,  I  used  to  make  them  as 
happy  as  I  could,  at  whatever  cost  to  myself.  But, 
after  all,"  she  added,  in  a  tone  of  regretful  meditation, 
"  what  can  you  expect  of  the  child  of  so  bad-hearted  a 
father  and  so  common  a  mother?" 

"  Run  away,  Hester  Sybilla,"  said  her  grandmother, 
who  had  not  caught  the  last  part  of  her  daughter's 
remarks,  "  you  will  find  your  cousins  in  the  woods. 
Show  them  all  your  favourite  spots.  It  is  not  like  you 
to  be  selfish  !  " 

14 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

For  good  grandmother  Stirling  was  one  of  the  people 
who  can  never  see  any  fault  in  their  own  children. 
And  though  there  was  no  ardent  affection  between  them, 
her  daughter  had  pleased  her  greatly  by  the  wise  and 
prudent  marriage  she  had  made,  and  also  by  the  man- 
nerly and  proper  way  in  which  she  had  brought  up  her 
family. 

Hester  followed  along  the  green  path  resolving  that 
she  would  not  be  a  selfish  girl.  Her  cousins  had  cer- 
tainly seemed  unkind,  but  perhaps  she  had  been  over 
ready  to  hate  them.  Her  heart,  eager  and  passionate, 
quick  and  keen  on  the  chase  of  love,  yearned  to  forgive. 
It  had  never  yet  been  crossed  and  thrown  back  on  itself 
by  disappointment. 

As  she  proceeded  Hester  could  trace  the  track  of  the 
army  of  advance  by  the  torn  sprays  of  columbine,  the 
uprooted  wayside  flowers,  the  half-ripe  rasps  plucked  and 
thrown  in  the  dust.  But  she  kept  on,  with  a  steady 
purposefulness.  She  would  be  kind  to  them  in  spite  of 
all.  She  would  yet  win  their  liking  —  this  love-hungry 
little  Hester.  She  would  show  them  of  her  choicest. 
She  would  keep  nothing  selfishly  to  herself. 

Suddenly,  with  a  unanimous  yell,  they  leaped  upon 
her  out  of  the  thicket  of  yews  which  grew  on  either 
side,  Tom  urging  Dick  to  bark  his  loudest,  and  to  snap 
at  her  heels  in  a  way  that  sent  Hester's  heart  into  her 
mcjuth. 

^'  Go  home,"  cried  Ethel,  "we  don't  want  you.  You 
arc  a  spy,  a  spy,  do  you  hear?  " 

"  What  do  you  want  following  us  ? "  said  Claudia, 
turning  up  her  nose. 

"  I  only  wanted  to  show  you  my  bower,"  Hester  said, 
timidly,  "  the  people  here  think  it  is  pretty." 

"  We  dcjn't  want  to  sec  any  bower —  nasty,  dirty  place 
'5 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

I  warrant,"  said  Tom,  scornfully.  "We  are  going  to 
hunt  rabbits  in  the  woods  over  yonder ! " 

"  Oh,  please,"  said  Hester,  "  you  must  not  go  beyond 
that  fence.  Those  woods  belong  to  Lord  Darroch,  and 
he  is  so  particular  !  " 

"  Stuff !  "  cried  Tom,  "  what  do  I  care  for  Lord  Dar- 
roch ?  I  would  Uke  to  see  him  interfere  with  me.  Come 
on,  Vic!" 

"  Do  let  me  show  you  the  bower  instead,"  the  little 
girl  pleaded,  making  a  last  effort  to  keep  her  cousins  from 
the  dread  sacrilege  of  entering  Lord  Darroch's  covers. 

"  All  right,"  cried  Vic,  who  alone  of  the  four  seniors 
showed  the  least  consideration  for  seven-year-old  Hester, 
"  come  on,  let  me  see  your  bower.  It  can't  take  long. 
The  others  need  n't  come  if  they  don't  want  to  !  " 

"  You  can  go  if  you  like,  Vic  !  "  said  Tom,  striding  on, 
"  I  shan't  !  " 

"It's  quite  near,"  said  Hester,  pleadingly,  and  with- 
out waiting  any  further  reply,  she  led  the  way. 

The  country  folk  were  right.  Hester's  bower  was 
indeed  a  pretty  place.  It  had  been  formed  on  the  top  of 
a  little  green  mound  above  the  Airy  burn,  just  where  it 
came  tinkling  and  sparkUng  down  through  dainty  linns, 
sulking  in  the  green  gloom  of  deepest  copses,  and  then 
breaking  away  with  a  "  brattle "  of  pebbles  over  the 
shallows  on  its  way  to  join  the  Darroch  water.  To  this 
place  Hester  during  several  summers  had  transported 
rare  ferns  from  every  damp  crevice  in  the  woods.  She 
had  planted  flowers,  some  common  like  the  starry  trefoil 
and  Ragged  Robin  ;  others  more  difficult  to  find,  like  the 
lady's  slipper  or  the  tall  blue  flax,  pale  like  a  wintry  sky. 
She  had  trained  creepers  to  grow  up  the  trunks  of  the 
trees  till  the  whole  place  glowed  with  colour.  She  was 
proud  of  it,  proud  of  the  rustic  seats  which  she  had  ar- 

i6 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

ranged  with  scrupulous  care  in  suitable  corners,  of  her 
neat  shelves  for  crockery,  and  of  her  numerous  utensils 
for  "playing  at  house." 

But  she  was  not  prepared  for  the  burst  of  laughter 
with  which  her  pride  in  the  bower  was  received.  Even 
Vic  laughed. 

"What  a  sillv  old  tumble-down  pot-shop!"  said 
Tom,  kicking  away  her  favourite  log,  on  which  she 
loved  to  sit  and  read  by  herself  in  the  evening.  It  fell 
with  a  plunge  into  the  pool  and  floated  away. 

"  What  a  lark,"  Tom  cried ;  "  let 's  chuck  'em 
all   in!" 

"  Come  on,  Tom,"  said  Vic,  "  don't  be  a  fool !  We've 
got  to  get  to  the  woods  and  back  before  father  comes 
or  there  will  be  proper  shines.  Leave  the  kid's  rubbish 
alone !  " 

Tom  was  trying  to  "skip  "  on  the  surface  of  the  pool 
with  the  poor  bits  of  coloured  pottery  which  had  consti- 
tuted Hester's  best  dinner-service.  She  always  wiped 
them  every  day  with  the  special  duster  Megsy  Tipperlin 
had  given  her.  But  he  might  have  thrown  them  all  into 
the  water,  for  all  that  Hester  would  have  cared  at  that 
moment.  She  stood  rooted  to  the  spot  till  they  were 
gone,  and  then  she  waited  till  she  heard  the  sound  of 
their  loud  voices  die  along  the  beech  avenue  and  out 
through  the  pastures  towards  Lord  Darroch's  woods. 

Then,  with  a  mighty  aching  woe  in  her  heart,  she 
threw  herself  down  and  buried  her  face  among  the  torn 
creepers  and  desecrated  furniture  of  her  most  sacred 
place.  Sharp  dry  sobs  came  first,  shaking  her  thin 
little  body  and  heaving  her  shoulders.  These,  however, 
gradually  ceased,  as  the  tears  gushed  forth  in  a  relieving 
flood  and  the  hot  drops  scalded  the  backs  of  her  brown 
and  sunburnt  hands. 

2  17 


THE     INNOCENT     LAMBS 

"Oh,  I  wish  they  were  dead!  —  I  could  kill  them  — 
yes,  I  could  kill  them  every  one ! "  The  fierce  little 
voice  came  in  gusts  and  catches  through  the  vehement 
sobbing,  "  I  hate  them  all  —  and  I  wanted  to  make  them 
so  happy ! " 


i8 


CHAPTER   III 

THE    BEAST    OF    DEAD    MAN'S    POOL 

HESTER  lav  a  long  time  thus,  without  moving. 
The  hot  afternoon  droned  away  overhead  as 
the  sun  swung  silently  round  the  sky.  I  think 
she  sobbed  herself  to  sleep ;  for  it  was  with  a  strange 
sense  of  being  a  hundred  years  old  at  least  that  Hester 
started  up.  Out  of  the  cool  blue  dusk  of  sleep  (the 
sleep  of  childhood  is  deep  blue,  it  grows  grey  and 
colourless  afterwards)  she  popped  up  suddenly  into  a 
wrecked  and  desolate  world.  The  reality  of  things 
appeared  all  at  once  to  close  in  upon  Hester  with  a  noise 
like  the  whirring  of  a  million  wings.  She  sat  up  and 
began  picking  at  a  torn  spray  of  the  lesser  scarlet  Indian 
cress,  the  common  creeper  of  Galloway  cottage  walls. 

Suddenly,  away  to  the  left  she  heard  the  noise  of 
shots  that  went  off  one  after  another  in  the  Darroch 
woods.  Hester  started  to  her  feet.  She  remembered 
how  she  had  heard  from  the  wild  MacKinstrey  herders 
that  my  Lord  Darroch  was  coming  down  from  London 
that  day  with  a  party  of  shooters.  They  would  find  her 
cousins.  They  would  get  "taken  up"  for  poachers. 
They  would  be  sent  to  gaol,  and  she,  Hester  Sybilla 
Stirling,  would  be  blamed  for  not  warning  them. 

She  was  determined  that,  fur  her  own  sake,  this  last 
should  not  happen  if  possible.  After  what  they  had 
done,  her  cousins  might  spend  their  lives  in  prison.  She 
would  never  so  much  as  go  and  see  them,  Siic  would 
not  give  them   a  single   pet   rabbit  or  the  newest  of  her 

^9 


THE  BEAST  OF  DEAD  MAN'S  POOL 

dolls  to  play  with.  But  in  this  matter  her  grandmother 
would  certainly  expect  her  to  look  after  her  cousins,  to 
warn  them  of  their  danger. 

So,  without  listening  for  the  repetition  of  the  sounds, 
she  ran  across  the  pastures,  from  which  the  cows  had 
already  disappeared,  by  which  sign  she  knew  that  it  must 
be  getting  late.  The  shadows  were  slanting  fast,  the 
sun  growing  golden  yellow  and  what  Hester  called 
"  glimmery "  in  a  kind  of  rich  wine-coloured  mist. 
Thrushes  sat  on  the  tops  of  trees  —  the  young  birds 
practising  hard  at  their  triplicate  notes  and  not  succeed- 
ing very  well.  For  a  thrush  only  sings  truly  after  the 
frosts  of  a  year  have  mellowed  his  voice — which  in  this 
way  is  like  a  winter-ripened  apple. 

Hester  could  not  run  fast  enough  with  her  best  shoes 
on.  They  had  been  specially  selected  that  morning  by 
Megsy  with  a  view  to  discomfort,  or  so  at  least  Hester 
imagined.  Yet  she  must  get  to  the  Darroch  woods 
before  her  cousins  should  be  caught  and  haled  to  prison. 
Else  her  grandmother  would  never  trust  her  again,  and, 
though  she  might  be  selfish,  Hester  Stirling  loved  her 
granny. 

So,  stooping  down  and  picking  up  one  foot  in  her 
hand,  she  stood  like  a  goose  going  to  sleep,  and  quickly 
unloosed  the  lacing  of  the  shoe.  She  peeled  her  thin  leg 
of  its  stocking.  It  looked  like  a  white  sprout  of  willow, 
so  long  it  was  for  her  size  and  so  much  paler  than  her 
brown  hands  and  face.  Then  stuffing  the  stockings 
well  into  the  toes  of  the  shoes,  so  that  she  might  not 
lose  them  by  the  way,  she  tied  the  long  laces  together 
and  slung  the  whole  round  her  neck,  after  the  manner  of 
the  wild  MacKinstrey  boys  when  they  went  bathing  in 
the  Darroch  Water. 

Then  she  started  to  run.      At  the  first  touch   of  the 


THE    BEAST    OF    DEAD    MAN'S    POOL 

cool  dewy  grass  Hester's  troubles  seemed  to  vanish. 
All  was  delicious  to  her— the  wet  coolness,  the  elastic 
cushion  of  the  tender  blades  beneath  the  bare  feet,  the 
wind  that  pushed  against  her,  as,  swift  as  a  deer,  she 
rushed  downhill.  Then  her  hair  blew  out  around  her 
and  the  coolness  of  the  wind  clasped  itself  behind  her 
neck.  It  was  glorious.  She  forgave  them  all.  She 
forgave  them  even  on  Fluffy's  account.  It  seemed  not 
to  matter  so  much  now  about  the  bower.  She  had  lost 
track  of  her  legs.  They  seemed  to  run  of  their  own 
accord.  She  felt  herself  treading  on  air.  She  was 
upborne  bv  the  red  sunset  beams  into  which  she  ran. 

But  the  wild  rush  ended  at  a  dyke  which  separated 
the  small  property  of  Arioland  from  the  great  one  of 
Darroch.  It  was  a  tall  dyke,  built  of  the  rough  blue 
whinstone  of  the  country,  and  to  most  children  it  would 
have  been  a  formidable  undertaking  to  climb  it.  But 
not  so  to  Hester,  who  had  been  climbing  such  fences 
ever  since  she  could  remember. 

It  took  only  a  brief  clamber  upwards  to^  get  astride 
the  top,  her  dangling  shoes  retarding  her  no  little,  llicn 
a  thin  lithe  figure  might  have  been  seen  for  a  moment 
white  against  the  dusk  of  the  firs,  as  Hester  caught  a 
branch,  and  swung  herself  towards  the  ground  with  a 
gesture  as  true  and  certain  as  that  of  a  monkey,  or  any 
other  arboreal  expert.  But  alas  for  experts,  the  tree  was 
an  elm,  and  as  is  the  way  of  its  kind,  it  proved  faithless. 
The  branch  snapped,  and  Hester  fell  somewhat  heavily 
to  the  ground. 

And  the  very  first  step  in  the  woods  told  her  that  she 
was  not  now  on  the  cool  velvet  of  the  home  pastures. 
A  sharp  pain  caught  her  in  the  instep  of  her  foot,  then 
a  keener  yet,  as  she  put  her  foot  to  the  ground  a  second 
time,   to   keep   from    falling.     She    had    hurt    her    knee 

21 


THE    BEAST    OF    DEAD    MAN'S    POOL 

against  a  stone,  and  a  thorn  —  Hester  knew  it  well,  had 
pierced  her  bare  sole.  So,  with  the  instinct  of  country- 
bred  youth  she  sank  instantly  to  the  ground,  and  took 
her  wounded  foot  in  her  lap.  The  bruise  on  the  knee 
did  not  trouble  her  for  the  moment,  but  the  thorn  was 
another  matter.  She  could  feel  it  well  enough,  but  in 
the  dusk  of  the  woods  she  could  not  see  to  pull  it  out. 
When  at  last  she  screwed  up  her  courage  to  try,  she 
pulled  part  of  the  long  black  hawthorn  spike  out,  but 
alas!  a  piece  snapped  off  and  remained  nearly  level  with 
the  skin.  Hester's  ears  sang  with  the  pain  and  disap- 
pointment. 

Presently  a  gun  went  off  much  further  away,  and 
through  the  undergrowth  she  heard  the  rushing  trample 
of  feet,  and  the  yapping  of  Dick  hard  on  the  trail  of  one 
of  my  Lord  Darroch's  rabbits.  They  came  across  the 
copse,  Tom  and  Dick  leading,  Victoria  with  a  flushed 
face  careering  wildly  behind,  while  Claudia  and  Ethel, 
too  grown  up  and  ladylike  to  rush  along  with  the  others, 
followed  the  chase  more  leisurely. 

Hester  stood  up  on  one  foot,  holding  the  other,  which 
now  pained  her  very  much,  in  her  hand,  while  she 
steadied  herself  against  a  tree. 

"  Please  help  me,"  she  called  out  to  them,  "  I  have 
hurt  my  foot !  " 

"It's  the  Brown  Patch,"  cried  Tom,  "she's  been 
spying  on  us  again  !  Serve  her  right !  Come  on,  Vic, 
Dick  's  got  something  good   this  time  !  " 

And  though  Hester  cried  again,  "  Please  don't  go  —  I 
have  a  thorn  in  my  foot ;  I  can't  walk  home  !  "  they 
all  dashed  headlong  into  the  copses  again. 

Ethel  and  Claudia  passed  by  without  even  looking  at 
her,  interested,  but  yet  dignified  spectators  of  the  sport. 
The  sounds  died  away  down  the  glade,  and  Hester  sank 

22 


THE    BEAST    OF    DEAD    MAN'S    POOL 

upon  a  mossv  stump  and  the  tears  welled  up  again  freely. 
She  took  her  shoes  from  her  neck  and  drew  the  stocking 
on  her  unwounded  foot.  She  dared  not  move,  for  she 
could  feel  the  hedge  "  scotchings, "  great  thorny  branches, 
lying  thick  on  every  side  of  her.  It  appeared  to  her, 
however,  that  if  she  could  surmount  the  high  wall  of  the 
deer-park  and  get  back  into  the  home  pastures,  she  might 
manage  to  crawl  to  JVIegsy,  who  seemed  now  the  only 
friend  she  had  left  in  all  the  world. 

But  the  task  was  too  great  for  her.  With  the 
wounded  knee  and  torn  foot  she  could  not  hoist  herself 
upon  the  top  of  the  barrier.  So,  after  trying  to  limp 
slowly  along  a  little  way  towards  the  Lodge  Gate  of  the 
Darroch  avenue,  Hester  sank  to  the  ground  again,  and 
the  tears  ran  more  freely  than  ever.  It  was  not  so  much 
pain  as  a  sense  of  passionate  disappointment  with  things 
in  general,  and  also  some  growing  fear  that  she  might 
have  to  spend  the  night  in  the  woods  if  somebody  did 
not  speedily  come  to  find  her.  Of  course  from  a  cooler 
and  older  point  of  view  this  was  well-nigh  impossible. 
For  the  Torphichan  children,  unkind  and  selfish  though 
they  might  be,  would  certainly,  when  questioned,  tell 
where  they  had  last  seen  their  cousin.  But  then  such 
wise  considerations  did  little  to  quiet  the  fears  of  a  small 
girl  of  seven,  with  the  night  growing  darker  every 
moment  about  her  and  the  last  red  of  the  sunset  burning 
itself  out  between  the  boles  of  the  pine  trees. 

Besides,  the  Darroch  woods  were  haunted  —  so  averred 
the  common  gossip  of  the  country-side.  Hester  knew 
that  one  ghost  was  a  white  lady  with  shut  eyes,  and 
hands  outspread,  who  played  a  sort  of  ghostly  blind- 
man's  bufi^with  any  one  found  after  nightfall  on  her  do- 
mains. "Fo  this  the  imagination  of  the  MacKinstrey 
children    had    added    a    fearsome    beast,    with   gleaming 

23 


THE  BEAST  OF  DEAD  MAN'S  POOL 

teeth  and  fiery  eyes,  which  came  up  out  of  the  water 
of  the  Dead  Man's  Pool  and  haled  the  unwary  down  to 
its  lair  among  the  roots  of  the  white  water-lilies.  Kip 
MacKinstrey  swore  he  had  seen  the  Water  Kelpie, 
and  only  escaped  by  climbing  a  tree.  In  her  present 
plight,  Hester  certainly  could  not  climb  a  tree. 

At  this  moment  a  stick  cracked  near  at  hand,  and 
with  a  slight  cry,  Hester  looked  up,  expecting  to  see  the 
horned  head  of  the  water  demon,  or  the  outstretched 
arms  of  the  White  Lady  of  Darroch,  with  the  spectral 
bony  fingers  groping  about  to  catch  her.  There  was 
certainly  something  creeping  along  the  wall  towards  her. 

At  this  Hester's  sorely-tried  little  heart  now  absolutely 
stood  still.  Another  stick  cracked  quite  close  by,  and 
the  child's  fearful  eyes  could  make  out  in  the  deepest 
dusk  of  the  leaves  a  moving  figure.  Could  it  be  the 
terrible  beast  of  the  Dead  Man's  Pool  ? 

It  is  easy  enough  not  to  be  afraid  in  the  daytime,  and 
when  there  are  grown-ups  about,  but  at  seven  years  of 
age  and  in  the  Darroch  woods  when  the  night  is  falling, 
that  is  quite  another  matter. 

The  Thing  was  quite  close  to  her  now,  apparently 
crouching  in  the  deepest  shadow.  A  shriek  escaped  from 
Hester's  trembling  lips. 

"  Oh,  Megsy,  Megsy,"  she  cried,  "  come  and  help  me  ! 
The  Beast  will  get  me !  " 


24 


CHAPTER   IV 
THE    RED    CROSS    KNIGHT 

INSTANTLY,  at  her  cry,  the  beast  rose  to  its  feet 
in  the  shape  of  a  handsome  lad  with  bared  head, 
about  which  fair  curls  crisped  tightly.  He  wore  a 
flannel  shirt,  very  much  open  at  the  neck,  a  rough  tweed 
jacket  and  knickerbockers,  homespun  stockings  and  brown 
shoes,  while  his  waist  was  girt  with  a  blue  belt. 

"  Hello,  little  girl !  "  he  cried,  in  a  tone  of  great  as- 
tonishment, "  who  are  you  ?  And  what  on  earth  are  you 
doing  here  at  this  time  of  night  ?  " 

"You  are  not  the  Beast  ?"  stammered  Hester,  gazing 
with  all  her  eyes  at  this  apparition  so  much  less  terrible 
than  she  had  anticipated. 

The  boy  laughed,  a  cheery  careless  laugh,  which  re- 
assured Hester  more  than  an  affidavit  from  the  minister 
of  the  parish. 

"I  have  often  been  called  so  at  school,"  he  explained; 
"  but  which  beast  do  you  mean  .?  " 

"  The  beast  that  lives  in  the  Dead  Man's  Pool,  and 
eats  little  boys  and  girls!"  said  Hester,  gaining  courage 
with  every  word. 

The  lad  threw  back  his  head  in  a  fresh  laugh. 

"  What  larks  !  "  he  said,  "  to  be  taken  for  the  Water 
Kelpie.  No,  I  don't  eat  little  girls.  In  fact,  I  don't 
like  'em  !  I  can't  abide  girls  at  all ;  though  little  girls 
are  not  nearly  so  bad  as  the  other  kind  !  " 

The  handsome  boy  spoke  with  the  healthy  intolerance 
of  fourteen.     For  at  that  period  a  colossal  ignorance  and 

25 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

self-conceit  prevents  the  animal  from  knowing  that  in  a 
few  years  he  will  become  the  abject  slave  of  those  same 
girls  whom  he  now  regards  as  little  better  than  so  much 
superfluous  live-stock. 

Then  all  at  once  he  seemed  to  remember. 

"What's  your  name?"  he  demanded,  sharply,  as  if 
Hester  had  been  the  last  new  boy  come  to  school. 

"  Hester  Sybilla  Stirling,"  answered  the  little  girl.  "I 
am  seven  years  old." 

"  You  don't  look  it  —  you  are  so  thin  and  brown.  But 
let  me  feel — your  muscle  is  not  half  bad.  I  suppose  you 
belong  to  Old-Woman  Stirling  over  at  the  farm.  What 
are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  don't  belong  to  '■  Old- Woman  Stirhng  at  the 
farm,' "  retorted  Hester  indignantly;  "my  grandmother 
is  the  lady  of  Arioland  !  " 

"That 's  the  same  thing,"  said  the  boy,  cheerfully,  not 
taking  the  least  notice  of  her  indignation;  "I  wish  my 
governor  would  buy  the  old  lady  out,  though  I  like  her, 
too.     I  daresay  he  will  when  she  dies." 

"You  are  a  nasty,  horrid  boy,"  said  Hester,  kindling, 
"  My  grandmother  is  not  going  to  die.  And  I  don't 
believe  your  father  could  buy  Arioland,  anyway  !" 

"  Golly,  you  are  about  right  there,"  the  boy  said  ; 
"my  old  man  is  a  sight  better  at  spending  the  'gelt' 
than  buying  more  land  with  it  for  his  worshipful 
posterity  !  But  you  have  n't  told  me  what  brought 
you  here  ? " 

Hester  felt  a  strong  desire  to  say,  as  she  had  been  in- 
structed to  do  on  such  occasions  by  Kip  MacKinstrey, 
"What  biznis  is  that  of  yours?"  which  remark  Kip 
considered  so  particularly  witty  and  effective  that  he 
always  laughed  at  it  himself. 

But  she  refrained,  and  answered  meekly  enough,  "  I 
26 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

came  to  warn  my  cousins  that  some  one  was  shooting  in 
my  Lord  Darroch's  woods." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  the  boy,  with  a  slight  change  in  his  tone, 
"  then  it  was  your  beastly  cousins  who  were  carving 
merry  Hades  out  of  our  covers  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Hester,  trying  to  make  out  what 
he  meant;  "  they  were  after  the  young  pheasants.  They 
got  four  last  year  !  " 

"  Oh,  they  did,  did  they  .''  "  cried  the  youth,  with  in- 
dignation; "there  was  a  beastly  dog  with  them,  too  — 
I  heard  him.  I  wish  I  had  got  on  to  them.  I  bet  I 
would  have  shifted  the  lot  of  them  !  " 

"  Don't  go,  they  were  here  a  minute  ago,"  said 
Hester,  loyally  ;  "  perhaps  they  will  come  back."  This 
she  said,  knowing  that  that  night  the  Darroch  woods 
should  see  her  cousins   no  more. 

"  I  wish  they  would  come  back  ;  but  what  are  you 
doing  here  ?     Are  you  waiting  for  them  ?  " 

"  I  've  hurt  my  knee,  and  I  've  got  a  thorn  in  my 
foot ;  I  can't  walk  a  bit !  "  said  Hester,  summing  up  her 
troubles  in  a  sentence, 

"Jove,"  cried  the  boy,  "why  didn't  you  tell  us  that 
sooner.  Let 's  have  a  look  at  them.  The  knee  does  n't 
look  much  —  come  out  into  the  open  first,  though  — 
it 's  as  black  as   mv   hat   in   here  !  " 

"  I  can't  walk,  please  •,  it  hurts  !  " 

"  Nonsense  ;  there,  try  with  my  arm." 

He  offered  that  member  with  an  awkwardness  which 
showed  that  he  had  as  yet  had  no  practice  in  the 
art. 

Hester  did  try,  but  sank  down  on  the  ground  again 
with  a  groan  of  pain. 

"  It  's  no  use  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  told  you  so  —  I  can't 
walk  a  step  !  " 

27 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

The  lad  with  the  curls  laid  down  his  gun,  leaning  it 
carefully  against  a  tree. 

"That's  the  governor's  best  double-barrelled  Pur- 
die,"  he  said;  "I  mustn't  leave  it  out  all  night, 
or  I  '11  get  two-and-two  are  five !  Here,  get  on  my 
back  !  Give  me  hold  of  your  wrists  and  I  '11  hitch 
you  up  in  a  minute.  I  've  got  my  pony  down  at 
the  lodge,  to  ride  home  on.  I  bet  I  can  carry  you 
as  far  as  that.  Then  we  '11  have  a  look  at  the  foot, 
and  ride  you  home  to  Old-Woman  Stirling  as  jolly  as 
eggs-a-breaking  ! " 

"  You  are  not  to  call  my  grandmother  that,  or  I  shall 
stay  here  all  night,"  said  Hester,  balancing  herself, 
notwithstanding,  on  her  one  whole  foot  and  reaching 
her  hands  over  the  boy's  shoulders. 

"  Never  mind  your  grandmother,"  cried  her  com- 
panion. "  Now  give  a  hop  —  as  good  as  you  can  ! 
One,  two,  three  —  GO  !  Ugh-ugh-ugh  !  There  you 
are  !  Stride-legs  is  jolly,  is  n't  it  ?  Why  I  could  carry 
you  to  Jericho !  You  're  no  heavier  than  a  blessed 
ferret !  What  makes  you  so  lean  ?  Does  n't  the  old 
lady  feed  you  well  ?  Got  hold  of  my  hair  behind  ? 
Then  grip  her  for  all  she  is  worth.  There,  at  the 
back  of  my  neck,  that 's  the  shot !  All  set  ?  Order 
arms  !     Eyes  front  !      Quick   march  !  " 

And  leaving  his  gun  leaning  against  the  tree  the  boy 
moved  off  steadily  down  the  hill  towards  the  lodge  with 
Hester  on  his  back,  keeping  as  close  to  the  wall  as 
possible,  because  there  the  trees  were  fewest  and  the 
cover  less  tangled. 

"Easy  does  it,"  he  said,  "not  hurting  much,  eh? 
Carry  you  ?  I  should  say  so  —  why,  it  's  no  harder  than 
carrying  a  fellow's  dinner.  We  are  quite  near  Dick- 
son's lodge  now.     Then  we  '11  have  a  look  at  your  prop 

28 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

and  send  Dickson  back  for  the  Purdie.  It  will  do 
Dickson  good.  He  's  as  lazy  as  a  hedgehog,  anyway. 
Hitch   up,  little  girl  !  " 

Hester  "•  hitched  up  "  obediently,  higher  on  the  boy's 
shoulder,  and  clasped  both  her  hands  tightly  in  the  thick 
of  his  short  rearward  curls. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  cried,  presently,  as  a  light  shone 
in  front  of  them. 

Hester's  steed  marched  straight  up  to  the  shut  door 
of  a  creeper-grown  cottage  and  kicked  vigorously. 
There  was  the  screeching  noise  of  chairs  being  pushed 
vehemently  back,  a  child's  wail,  then  one  or  two  quick 
tootsteps  and  the  door  was  flung  wide  open. 

"  If  I  dinna  break  every  bane  in  your  body,  ye 
drucken  —  what  —  what — the  young  Maister,  is  that 
you  ^  Guid  save  us !  What 's  that  ye  hae  gotten, 
Maister  Carus .?  " 

The  burly  figure  of  Keeper  Dickson  filled  up  the 
entire  doorway,  and  over  his  shoulder  peered  the  face  of 
his  wife,  a  little  white  and  frightened  by  the  hubbub. 
For  her  husband  was  a  standing  terror  to  all  poachers 
within  ten  miles,  and  had  often  been  threatened  by  the 
rough  quarrymen  from  the  Bennan  quarries. 

"  I  've  found  a  little  girl  up  by  the  wall  of  the  deer- 
park,  Dickson,"  said  the  boy,  in  quite  a  difl:'erent  tone 
from  that  which  he  had  used  to  Hester,  "  she  can't  walk 
—  got  a  thorn  in  her  foot  I  think  !      Bring  a  light  !  " 

"  I  declare  it 's  wee  Hester  Stirlin'  frae  the  Big  Hoose 
o'  Arioland,"  cried  kindly  Mrs.  Dickson,  "wi'  lassie, 
what's  gotten  ye?  What  were  ye  doin'  in  the  deer- 
park  at  this  time  o  'nicht  ?  " 

But  Hester  answered  not.  She  had  fainted  cjuictly 
away  during  the  last  hundred  yards.  The  varied  excite- 
ments of  the  day  had  prc^vcd  too  much  for  her,  and  now 

29 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

she  was  transferred,  a  little  limp  dead-weight,  into  the 
motherly  arms  of  the  keeper's  wife. 

When  she  awoke,  Dickson  was  gone,  and  his  wife 
stood  over  her  with  a  lamp.  She  heard  her  first  friend 
say,  "  This  way,  Mrs.  Dickson  ;  now  for  the  old  thorn  ! 
I  see  it.  I  believe  I  could  draw  it  out  with  my  teeth, 
if  you  were  to  hold  the  lamp  a  little  lower  —  so!  " 

Then  with  a  curious  tickling  thrill  Hester  felt  warm 
lips  pressed  to  the  sole  of  her  little  cold  foot.  There 
came  a  sharp  twinge  of  pain  which  made  her  wince, 
and  then  all  at  once,  a  blessed  sense  of  release. 

"  It 's  out,  hurrah  —  all  clear  !  What  a  whopper  ! 
Golly,  it 's  like  a  cleaning-rod  !  "  she  heard  the  boy  cry, 
as  he  exhibited  something  triumphantly  between  finger 
and  thumb. 

"  Ye  are  a  clever  laddie,  Maister  Carus,"  said  Mrs. 
Dickson,  with  admiring  affection  in  her  voice, "  an' 
here 's  my  guid  man  wi'  the  powny.  He  '11  hae  the  gun 
ower  his  shoulder.  Gang  ye  your  ways  hame,  Maister 
Carus.  They  a'  will  be  wild  aboot  ye.  Dickson  will 
convoy  the  bairn  hame." 

"No,  indeed,  Mrs.  Dickson,"  the  boy  answered,  with 
a  certain  hard  quality  in  his  tone  which  did  not  escape 
the  little  girl's  quick  ear,  "  There  's  not  a  soul  about  the 
place  cares  whether  I  ever  turn  up  at  all  —  except  old 
Dickson  and  yourself.  I  'm  going  over  to  Arioland  with 
the  girl  myself.  Besides,  I  may  see  those  young  poach- 
ers, and  get  a  chance  to  give  'em  'what  for'  !  " 

And  so  it  happened  that  the  square  byre  yard  of  the 
Farm  Town  of  Arioland  was  witness  of  a  strange  sight. 

Like  another  more  famous  battle-ground,  all  Arioland 
was  divided  into  three  parts;  the  "  Auld  Leddy's" 
domains — better,  perhaps,  designated  by  the  name  of 
Megsy  Tipperlin's;  the  territories  of  Sandy   the  grieve 

30 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

(which  consisted  of  the  mill,  the  barn,  the  office-houses)  ; 
and  the  great  farm-yard,  which,  with  its  quadrangle  of 
slippery  byres,  sheltered  the  wild  MacKinstreys,  the 
horde  of  long-legged  lasses  and  ragged  Gallants  that 
herded  and  raided,  and  did  after  their  kind  with  every 
thing  that  flew  or  ran  or  swam,  in  the  heavens  above,  in 
the  earth  beneath,  and  (when  they  went  "  a-guddling  ") 
some  way  into  the  waters  under  the  earth. 

To  this  place  Tom  Torphichan  and  Vic,  his  accom- 
plice, had  betaken  them  with  their  spoil.  Their  bag 
for  the  afternoon,  taken  in  broad  daylight,  like  the  sturdy 
reivers  of  old,  consisted  of  a  respectable  mother  pheas- 
ant which  had  run  to  them  from  under  a  bush,  having 
remained  tame  and  confiding  since  feeding  time,  three  or 
four  unfortunate  "  cheepers,"  which  they  had  knocked 
over  with  a  stick,  two  young  rabbits,  and  a  grouse  with  a 
broken  wing  that  Dick  had  routed  out  of  a  wrack  of 
bramble  bushes. 

Now  it  chanced  that  Tom  had  too  much  sense  to 
convey  his  plunder  into  the  house  where  his  father  was 
now  employed  in  taking  supper  after  his  journey.  For 
Dr.  Torphichan  was  far  too  much  of  a  courtier  to 
quarrel  with  a  man  so  powerful  as  my  Lord  Darroch. 
Besides,  as  a  man  who  one  day  might  be  the  proprietor 
of  a  neighbouring,  though  smaller  estate,  he  would 
certainly  not  have  permitted  his  son  and  daughters  to 
set  such  a  bad  example  to  the  underlings  of  the  farm-yard 
as  to  exhibit  to  them  their  c\'il-doing,  and  share  their 
plunder  with  them. 

So,  by  the  light  of  a  stable  lantern  Tom  and  Vic,  the 
btter  still  brief-skirted  from  her  chasings  through  the 
woods  after  the  rabbits,  were  engaged,  with  a  ring  of 
admiring  MacKinstrcys  for  chorus,  in  fighting  their 
battles   over   again  —  ncjt   always,   it   may   be,  observing 

3« 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

due  proportion  in  the  exaggeration  inseparable  from  the 
narration  of  all  exploits  of  the  chase. 

"  Thirty  yards  off  she  was, "  cried  Tom,  holding  up 
the  hen  pheasant  triumphantly  by  the  tail  —  "thirty 
yards,  as  I'm  a  living  sinner!  And  I  keeled  her  over 
the  first  whack  with  a  stone.      Didn't  I,  Vic  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  his  sister,  eager  on  an  achievement 
of  her  own,  "  and  I  killed  the  three  young  grouse  with 
a  stick.  The  rest  wouldn't  help  a  bit  —  and  Tom  was 
ofF  by  himself,  watching  the  old  keeper  !  " 

"  Boys,  oh  !  "  said  the  eldest  MacKinstrey,  nicknamed 
the  Gled,  because  of  his  rapid  flight  and  predatory  habits, 
"  let 's  gang  to  the  Auld  Waa's  an'  hae'  a  rare  feed. 
We  '11  pook  them,  an'  clean  them,  an'  boil  them  in  a  pot 
wi'  veegetables,  like  the  gypsies  does.  Me  an'  Kip  has 
often  done  them  that  way  ! " 

"  I  ken  whaur  there  's  some  carrots  I  could  steal !  " 
chimed  in  Babbety  MacKinstrey,  eager  to  take  a  hand  in 
so  promising  a  ploy. 

"  An'  me  lots  an'  lots  o'  new  pitawties  !  I  'm  that  wee 
I  can  crawl  through  a  hole  in  the  grieve's  garden-hedge." 

This  was  the  contribution  of  the  youngest  Mac- 
Kinstrey of  all,  whose  given  name  of  Archibald  had 
been  replaced  by  "  Clip-cloots, "  because  his  tongue  was 
locally  supposed  to  be  of  such  surpassing  sharpness  that 
it  could  "  cut  rags." 

"  Give  me  up  those  birds  and  rabbits  this  instant^  you 
young  thieves  !  " 

The  interruption  was  dramatic  in  its  apt  suddenness. 
And  the  picture  itself  was  a  thrilling  one.  Tom  Tor- 
phichan,  all  undismayed,  held  up  the  stable  lantern  at 
arm's  length.  Its  light  showed  a  handsome  boy,  of  a  little 
less  than  his  own  age,  leading  a  piebald  pony.      His  head 

32 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

was  thrown  back,  and  his  whole  mien  betokened  the  two 
things  which  Eom  hated  most  in  the  world,  aristocratic 
pride  and  a  strict  attention  to  personal  cleanliness.  Tom, 
elevated  on  the  MacKinstrey  manure  heap,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  wild  herders  of  that  ilk,  longed  with  a 
mighty  longing  to  kick  the  representative  of"  all  that  he 
most  abhorred.  Tom  was  by  no  means  a  cowardly  boy, 
though  at  the  present  time  he  was  passing  through  the 
era  of  cruelty  which  physiologists  tell  us  is  almost 
inseparable  from  boys  of  his  age  and  temperament. 

*'Who  are  you,  and  what  business  have  you  with  our 
birds  ?  "  quoth  Tom  the  undaunted  buccaneer. 

By  this  time  he  stood  alone,  save  for  the  faithful  Vic. 
The  iMacKinstreys  had  unobtrusively  withdrawn  them- 
selves at  the  first  sight  of  their  unwonted  visitor.  They 
knew  Hester's  cavalier  all  too  well,  and  though  they 
hated  him  no  less  than  Tom  Torphichan,  they  under- 
stood that  they  had  not  only  him  to  reckon  with  in  any 
encounter,  but  the  whole  established  order  of  things,  as 
represented  by  gamekeepers,  foresters,  policemen  —  and, 
what  was  of  more  immediate  weight  with  them  —  their 
father's  waist-belt  of  stout  bull's  hide,  inch-thick,  black, 
and  polished,  the  shiny  suppleness  of  which  was  wont  to 
curl  round  their  bare  legs  with  a  most  convincing  solidity 
of  argument. 

"  I  am  the  Master  of  Darroch,  and  these  are  my 
father's  birds  and  rabbits,"  said  the  lad  at  the  pony's 
head,  pointing  with  one  hand  to  the  spoil  between 
Tom's  feet,  "  you  killed  them  on  my  father's  grounds 
this  afternoon,  and  if  you  dcj  not  give  them  up  1  will 
have  you   arrested  !  " 

Tom  laughed  loudly,  perhaps  mcjre  loudl)'  than  he 
would  if  he  had  been  thoroughly  comfortable  in  his 
mind. 

3  33 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

"The  Master  of  Darroch,  indeed,"  he  sneered,  "well, 
at  any  rate,  I  '11  precious  soon  show  you  that  you  are 
none  of  my  master  !  If  these  are  your  father's  property, 
why  don't  you  come  and  take  them  ?  " 

Holding  thus  by  the  elder  law,  Tom  put  himself  into 
the  position  of  defence  approven  by  the  most  learned  at 
his  school,  the  Rankeillor  Christian  Institute  —  where, 
as  there  was  no  play-ground,  pugilism  as  a  branch  of 
education  was  taught  daily  behind  the  playing-sheds. 

"  I  have  to  take  this  young  lady  home  to  her  people," 
said  the  boy  with  the  pony,  "  or  I  should  precious  soon 
give  you  a  dashed  licking  for  cheek.  But  you  'd  better 
have  all  that  stuff  ready  for  me  when  I  come  back, 
or  I  shall  have  the  police  after  you  sharp  to-morrow 
morning  !  " 

"  You  can't  prove  it,"  cried  Tom,  "  I  defy  you  to 
prove  we  were  ever  on  your  old  estate.  There 's 
nothing  worth  taking  on  it  anyway.  We  got  all  these 
on  my  grandmother's  property.  So  put  that  in  your 
pipe  and  smoke  it !  " 

Hester's  cavalier  did  not  take  any  notice  of  these 
insults.  He  only  led  the  pony  down  the  edge  of  the 
wall  which  was  furthest  from  the  heaped  litter  of  the 
farm-yard. 

Seeing  him  (as  it  appeared)  in  retreat,  Tom  tried 
again   to  exasperate  his  enemy. 

"  If  that  little  Brown  Patch  who  is  shamming  lame 
told  you,  I  '11  do  for  her  to-morrow  morning  !  "  he  cried. 

The  Master  of  Darroch  turned  about  instantly. 

"You  dirty  little  coward,"  he  cried,  all  his  aristocratic 
propriety  of  language  instantly  gone,  "  if  you  dare  lay  a 
finger  on  the  girl,  I  swear  I  '11  come  over  and  lick  you 
till  you   can't   stand  !  " 

"  Cock-a-doodle-doo  !  "  crowed  Tom  in  the  darkness, 
34 


THE     RED     CROSS     KNIGHT 

"  come  back  and  do  it,  my  lord-knows-who  !  Mister 
Master  of  mudheaps  !      Boo-oo-oo  !  " 

It  was  so  dark  that  Tom  felt  it  was  no  use  putting  his 
thumb  to  his  nose,  thrusting  out  his  tongue,  or  express- 
ing contempt  by  any  of  these  time-honoured  means. 
But  what  he  could  do  he  did.  He  brayed  like  an  ass. 
He  gabbled  like  a  goose.  He  crowed  like  a  cock,  and 
finally,  standing  on  the  highest  midden  heap,  he  yelled 
like  a  wild   Indian. 

"  Come  back  and  get  jolly  well  licked.  Mister  Master 
of  Darroch  !  " 


35 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    MASTER    OF   DARROCH 

BUT  at  the  front  door  of  the  white-washed  man- 
sion of  Arioland  the  eldest  son  of  Lord  Darroch 
met  with  quite  another  reception.  It  was  Megsy 
Tipperlin  who  opened  the  door  —  Megsy,  not  attired  in 
the  white  cap  of  the  maidservant  —  but  Megsy  in  state, 
who  would  have  boxed  your  ears  if  you  had  called  her  a 
maidservant  —  Megsy,  in  one  of  her  mistress's  cast-ofF 
black-lace  "  keps,"  with  beads  that  glistened  and  tinkled 
like  the  burns  which  flash  on  the  hills  after  thunder-rain. 

"  Preserve  us  a',  what  's  this,  what 's  this  ?  Hester, 
I  thocht  ye  were  wi'  that  ill-set  *■  hyule,'  Tam  Tor- 
phichan — what's  come  to  my  denty  ?  And  wha  's  this 
that  has  brocht  ye  hame  ?  Speak  oot,  callant,  and  tell 
us  whaur  ye  got  the  wee  leddy  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  son  of  Lord  Darroch,"  said  the  boy, 
politely,  yet  all  unconsciously  speaking  as  to  an  inferior. 
"  I  found  the  little  girl  behind  the  wall  of  our  deer  park. 
I  think  her  foot  is  sprained,  as  well  as  hurt  with  a  thorn. 
But  I  believe  I  have  got  everything  out !  " 

"My  lord's  son  —  at  this  time  o'  the  nicht,  an'  to 
bring  her  dearie  back  to  auld  Megsy  !  The  Lord  that 
lo'es  the  bairn  bless  ye  and  the  blessin's  o'  twa  auld 
dune  women  follow  ye,  bonny  laddie  !  But  what  for  am 
I  standin'  bletherin'  here  ?  Megsy  Tepperlin,  ye  maun 
be  gaun  doited  !      Come  ben  !      Come  ben  !  " 

A  door  opened  in  the  hall  and  a  sonorous  and  com- 
manding voice  was  heard. 

36 


THE     MASTER     OF     DARROCH 

"  Tippcrlin,"  it  said,  "did  you  not  hear  Mrs.  Tor- 
phichan  ring  the  bell  twice  ?  Come  here  immediately  ! 
And  be  good  enough  to  shut  the  outer  door,  and  not 
waste  your  mistress's  time  gossiping  there  !  Who  is 
that  )ou  have  with  you?  'Miss  Hester,'  you  say  — 
Who  is  Miss  Hester?  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,  the 
reputed  child  of  my   wife's  brother -" 

"  Reputed  child,  indeed,"  said  Megsy,  shortly,  turning 
full  upon  him.  "  I  wad  hae  ye  ken.  Doctor  Torphichan, 
that  the  bairn  is  as  lawfully  begotten  an'  as  weel  vouched 
for  as  vour  ain  — aye,  or  maybe  better " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  woman  !  "  said  Doctor  Sylvanus, 
forgetting  for  once  the  suavity  of  his  irrcpproachable 
bedside  manner,  "you  are  inclined  to  be  insolent.  I 
will  speak  to  my  mother-in-law  about  dispensing  with 
your  services.  And  bid  the  youth  go  away  at  once.  If 
he  is  waiting  to  be  paid  for  bringing  the  girl  home,  tell 
him  there  is  nothing  for  him!  " 

"  This  young  gentleman  — that  there's  no  ane  in  a' 
the  countrv-side  to  baud  a  candle  to  —  is  the  Master  o' 
Darroch,  the  sole  and  only  son  o'  my  Lord  Darroch 
o'  Darroch,  Lord  Lieutenant  o'  the  County  !  " 

Megsy  rang  out  the  boy's  titles  like  a  herald.  And  it 
was  amusing  and  pitiful  to  see  the  instantaneous  change 
that  passed  across  the  face  of  the  fashionable  physician. 

"  My  dee-ar  young  gentleman,"  he  said,  with  his 
wife's  subscription-collecting  intonation,  "  I  beg  ten 
thousand  pardons  !  The  uncertain  light  —  my  ignorance 
of  the  neighbourhood  —  the  natural  irritation  of  having 
to  deal  with  a  woman  so  stupid  and  impossible  as  Mrs. 
Stirling's  maidservant,  whom  she  will  persist  in  retain- 
ing —  these  must  be  my  excuses  !  Permit  me  to  con- 
duct you  within.  The  ladies  arc  in  the  parlour.  Nay, 
I  will  take  no  denial.      Let  me  secure  your  pony." 

37 


THE     MASTER     OF     DARROCH 

So  saying  the  Doctor  came  to  the  door  and,  with  his 
own  large  soft  hands,  he  would  have  fastened  the 
spirited  little  piebald  to  the  pillar  of  the  porch.  But  the 
boy  had  discovered  the  old  "  loupin'-  on-ring  "  which 
stands  close  to  many  old  Scottish  houses  of  the  bonnet- 
laird  class. 

At  first  the  lad  had  intended  to  go  home  at  once,  but 
there  was  nothing  at  Darroch  either  to  attract  him,  or 
to  compel  him  to  be  home  by  any  stated  hour.  Besides 
which  he  remembered  that  old  Mrs.  Stirling  had  often 
been  kind  to  him  when  as  a  child  he  used  to  come 
across  for  a  feed  of  the  ripe  Arioland  gooseberries,  the 
like  of  which  were  not  to  be  found  among  all  the  gay 
parterres  and  glass-roofed  hot-houses  of  Darroch. 

"  Ladies,"  said  Dr.  Torphichan  with  even  more  than 
his  usual  purring  suavity,  "  1  have  the  honour  of  pre- 
senting to  you  the  Master  of  Darroch." 

The  two  young  ladies  who  were  sitting  together  at 
the  end  of  the  room  furthest  from  the  door,  tossed  their 
heads  and  giggled.  It  seemed  so  funny  to  them  to  hear 
a  schoolboy  called  "  Master."  But  their  mother  rose  in 
stately  fashion  and  bowed  profoundly  at  the  title,  while 
the  old  lady  simply  held  up  her  hands  in  surprise  and 
cried,  "  Wi'  Carus  —  what 's  brocht  ye  to  Arioland  so 
late  at  e'en  ?  Are  ye  hungrisome  ?  Do  ye  want  a 
piece  ? " 

The  boy  laughed  a  laugh  of  remembrance  as  much  at 
the  sound  of  her  voice  as  at  her  words. 

"  No,  Mrs.  Stirling,"  he  said,  eagerly,  "  1  don't  want 
a  piece  to-night,  though  I  can  taste  the  flavour  of  your 
apple  jelly  yet." 

*'  Ye  shall  have  a  pot  home  wi'  ye,  Carus,  lad  !  "  broke 
in  the  old  lady  of  Arioland. 

"  I  brought  home  your  granddaughter." 
-.8 


THE     iM  ASTER     OF     DARROCH 

"  My  Lord,"  said  Mrs.  Torphichan,  looking  about 
her  to  see  which  of  her  children  was  absent,  "  it  was 
indeed  most  thoughtful  of  you.  My  poor  Victoria  is  so 
headstrong  and  tht)ughtlcss.  She  has  such  spirits,  and 
1  have  often  warned  her  not  to  get  lost  in  the  woods. 
But  then  I  understand  that  your  father's  woods  are  so 
extensive.  I  remember  being  taken  over  them  when  I 
was  a  young  girl,  full  of  life  and  energy,  like  my  own 
dear  girls  now.  My  Lord,  let  me  present  to  you  my 
eldest  daughter,  Ethel  —  almost  a  young  lady,  as  you  see, 
and  my  youngest  Claudia,  my  dear  sly  puss,  as  I  call 
her.  Dear,  dear,  how  I  seem  to  live  my  happy  child- 
hood over  again  in  these  young  ones  whom  a  kind 
Pro\idence   hath  given   me  !  " 

At  this  Dr.  Torphichan  smiled  and  rubbed  his  hands 
slowly  over  each  other,  as  if  he  had  been  professionally 
called  in  by  Providence  to  assist,  and  had  assumed  his  best 
bedside  manner  in  honour  of  the  occasion. 

Ethel,  who  took  after  her  father,  gravely  bowed,  but 
said  nothing,  while  Claudia,  who  had  more  of  the  nature 
of  her  mother,  jerked  out  spitefully,  "Oh,  it  couldn't 
have  been  Vic  he  brought  home.  She  was  up  at  the 
dairy-steading  with  Tom,  going  over  those  horrid 
things  thev   killed   in   the  woods." 

"  It  was  little  Hester  Stirling  whom  I  found,"  said  the 
boy,  standing  perfectly  unembarrassed  in  the  lighted 
parlour;  "she  had  hurt  her  foot  climbing  the  wall  of  the 
deer-park,  and  I  brought  her  home  on  my  pony." 

The  old  lady  had  approached  silently  and  taken  him  by 
the  hand,  gazing  earnestly  into  his  face.  At  the  boy's 
words  she  drew  him  to  her  and  kissed  him  on  the  cheek, 
an  operation  to  which  the  Master  of  Darroch  submitted 
philosophically  enough. 

"  Yc   are  a  kind   huldie    to    hiing    hame    the  bairn   on 

39 


THE     MASTER     OF     DARROCH 

your  ain  beast,  Cams,  like  the  Guid  Samaritan.  Ye 
dinna  favour  your  faither  —  na,  there's  no  muckle  o'  his 
present  Lordship  aboot  ye.  But  your  mither  —  aye,  ye 
are  a  Niddisdale  if  ever  there  was  ane.  And  (turn  abool 
a'  vi^ee  mair  to  the  Ucht,  that  I  may  see  your  face)  I 
declare  ye  are  the  very  moral  o'  your  grandmither,  her 
that  is  noo  Her  Grace  o'  Dalveen  !  " 

"  Do  you  hear,  Ethel  ? "  said  Claudia,  in  a  loud 
whisper,  "  his  father  is  a  lord  and  his  grandmother  a 
duchess  ?  " 

And  as  the  good  old  lady  of  Arioland  moralised  she 
gazed  with  her  short-sighted  eyes  very  near  the  boy's 
face,  murmuring  half  aloud  and  half  to  herself,  "  Aye, 
it  will  be  a  blessed  day  when  he  comes  into  Darroch  — 
a  blessed  day  —  God  send  its  speed  —  and  bless  his  bonny 
face !  " 

Then  suddenly  she  hurried  away  to  a  door  on  the 
opposite  side  from  that  by  which  the  lad  had  been  in- 
troduced by  Dr.  Torphichan. 

"  But  what  am  I  thinkin'  aboot  ? "  she  said,  lifting  up 
her  black  silk  skirt  and  fumbling  in  a  swinging  pocket 
for  her  gold-rimmed  spectacles. 

"  Where  left  I  my  keys,  think  ye,  Sarah  ?  Did  ony 
o'  ye  see  my  keys  ?  They  are  on  the  gardevin  in  the 
dining-room,  said  ye  ?  Rin  an'  fetch  them,  my  dauties. 
What,  ye  daurna  gang  in  the  dark  ?  Sic'  silly  feared 
hempies  !  Rin  you  then,  Carus  —  ye  mind  fine  where  it 
stands.  Often  I  hae  opened  it  to  gie  ye  a  drink  o'  cur- 
rant wine.     Ye  were  fell  fond  o'  that,  I  weel  mind !  " 

"  Oh,  mother,"  cried  Mrs.  Torphichan,  "  do  not  send 
his  young  lordship  on  such  a  message.  Let  me  ring  for 
Tipperlin." 

"What,  Megsy,"  cried  the  old  lady,  "faith,  ye  hae 
forgotten  wi'  a  vengeance,  Sarah  lass  !      That  comes  o' 

40 


THE     MASTER     OF     DARROCH 

bein'  sae  lang  amang  the  grand  folk  o'  Abercairn.  1 
wad  admire  to  see  Alegsy  Tipperlin's  face  gin  ye  rang 
for  her  to  fetch  my  iccys  aff  the  garuevin!  Rin  you, 
Carus  !  " 

"  My    mother   spoils   all    her  servants,"  sighed    Mrs. 

Forphichan,  lifting  her  eyes  to  the  ceiling,  with   a  kind 

of  silent  appeal  to  the  higher  powers  for  resignation,  as 

she  saw  the  boy  eagerly  speed  away  to  bring  her  mother 

what  she  desired. 

In  a  moment  he  was  back,  taking  the  stairs  three  at 
a  bound. 

"  I  thank  ye  —  I  thank  ye,"  said  the  old  lady,  beaming 
upon  Carus  through  large,  round,  benevolent  glasses; 
"  noo  ye  shall  see  !  " 

And  she  walked  lightly  and  daintily  to  the  cupboard, 
flicked  the  keys  about  with  a  characteristic  little  flutter 
till  the  right  one  showed  itself,  and  with  it  opened  the 
door. 

Carus  involuntarily  took  a  step  nearer.  He  seemed  to 
grow  younger  as  the  well-remembered  scent  came  to  his 
nostrils.  He  forgot  the  Torphichans.  Once  more  he 
was  a  little  kilted  boy,  hot  and  dusty,  come  in  for  a 
drink  of  currant  wine  liberally  laced  with  water,  or  better 
still  one  of  Mistress  Stirling's  "  pieces "  of  bread  and 
"jell." 

A  cool  scent  came  from  the  stifF-waistcd  swinging 
bunches  of  lavender  and  balm  beneath  which  the  old 
lady's  black  bugles  glittered,  as  her  head  shook  with  the 
little  nervous  quiver  she  had  when  excited.  Within  the 
great  parlour  cupboard  there  were  shelves  on  shelves  of 
preserves.  Some  of  last  year's  candied  fruits  in 
wide-mouthed  glass  jars  had  still  power  to  make  the 
mouth  of  the  Master  of  Darroch  water.  Meneath  was 
hcMicy  -  -  blond   in  com'o  and   clear  amber  in  glass.      In 

41 


THE     MASTER     OF     DARROCH 

the  corner  some  of  the  latter  was  being  slowly  and 
luxuriously  strained  through  a  cloth  to  clear  it  of  every 
particle  of  wax. 

Mistress  Stirling  stood  a  moment  regardant,  her  head 
a  little  to  the  side. 

"  Bring  the  lamp,  Carus,  that  I  may  see  the  better," 
she  commanded.  "There's  my  guidman's  saddle-bags 
that  haena  been  pitten  to  ony  use  since  he  rade  awa  to 
the  General  Assembly  in  Edinburgh  to  gie  his  vote  in 
the  support  o'  Kirk  and  State  as  becam'  an  elder  o'  oor 
National  Zion.  Ye  shall  hae  them  filled  to  the  brim  this 
night,  for  the  peety  ye  took  on  a  bit  lamb  that  has  nane 
to  richt  her  but  twa  doited  auld  women-folk  !  Na,  na,  ye 
shallna  refuse  Isobel  Stirlin'  that  held  the  mither  o'  ye  in 
her  airms  ten  minutes  after  she  was  born.  And  a  bonny 
bit  lamb  she  was  —  thrown  to  the  wolves  —  thrown  to 
the  ravening  wolves ^ — -the  puir  lassie  —  the  puir  lassie!" 

As  the  old  lady  thus  meditated  she  stood  with  the 
ancient  saddle-bags,  which  she  had  rescued  from  a 
recess,  over  her  arm  —  for  the  store-pantry  of  the 
parlour  of  Arioland  would  in  these  degenerate  times 
have  made  an  ample  sleeping-room.  They  said,  indeed, 
that  it  had  formerly  been  used  in  the  bad  old  persecuting 
days  as  a  hiding-place  for  the  laird,  its  entrance  being 
concealed  by  a  vast  sideboard  with  a  sliding  back, 
through  which  a  former  Stirling  of  Arioland  had  crawled 
upon  the  slightest  alarm, 

"  Reid  currant  jelly  —  an'  some  o'  the  black  !  And 
grosarts  —  aye,  ye  were  aye  fell  fond  o'  grosarts,  Carus  ! 
An'  sugar  plooms,  that  melt  in  the  mooth  like  honey 
frae  the  kame !  Will  ye  hae  some  o'  them,  too  ? 
Laddie,  ye  maun  tak'  tent  to  your  beastie's  feet  this 
nicht,  or  a  bonny-like  stramash  ye  will  mak'  in  my 
guidman's  saddle-bags  —  there  —  and  there  !  " 

42 


1^  H  E     MASTER     C)  F     D  A  R  R  C)  C  H 

The  hospitable  old  lady  of  Ariolaiid  topped  oft'  with  a 
little  parcel  of  "dropped  scones"  which  Megsy  had 
made  that  afternoon  on  the  girdle.  Carus  was  as 
grateful  as  any  other  hungry  schoolboy,  in  spite  of  his 
airs  where  Master  Tom  Torphichan  was  concerned. 

"  You  are  very  good,  Mrs.  Stirling,"  he  said  ;  "  the  very 
sight  of  them  makes  me  hungry.  Yes,  I  am  all  alone 
at  the  Darroch.  Only  the  housekeeper  and  some 
servants  are  with  mc.  I  don't  often  know  where  my 
father  is.  He  comes  and  goes  without  telling  us.  But 
I  go  back  to  school  in  a  week,  and  then  it  is  n't  so 
bad  !  " 

He  took  the  old  lady's  hand  delicately,  as  his  grand- 
mother the  Duchess  had  taught  him  how  when  he  was 
little  more  than  a  baby,  and  dropping  his  bare  head  with 
its  tight  crop  of  curls,  he  kissed  the  old  lady's  fine 
fingers.  He  would  have  blushed  crimson  if  any  of  his 
school-fellows  had  seen  him,  and  have  fought  any 
number  of  pitched  battles  over  an  allusion  to  the  affair. 
But,  somehow,  with  his  grandmother's  old  friend  the 
ajicient  and   pretty  custom   came  back   naturally. 

Then  he  bowed  ceremoniously  to  Mrs.  Torphichan 
and  the  young  ladies,  Ethel  and  Claudia.  Victoria  was 
still  absent.  She  had  indeed  silently  opened  the  door 
upon  her  return,  and,  seeing  that  she  was  observed  by 
no  one  save  her  sisters,  as  silently  had  "  made  a  face," 
and  vanished  again. 

Dr.  Torphichan  accompanied  the  boy  to  the  door 
with  ceremonious  pcjliteness,  and  with  a  word  of  farewell 
Carus  rode  out  into  the  night.  By  this  time  he  had 
forgotten  all  about  Tom's  poached  game,  and  did  not 
even  turn  his  pony's  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
MacKinstrey  stronghold,  but  Unyk  tht-  lunger  and  easier 
road  down  the  avenue. 

43 


THE     MASTER     OF     DARROCH 

Tom  Torphichan,  however,  had  not  forgotten,  p'or 
at  an  angle  of  the  drive  wrhere  the  yew  trees  grow 
thickest  a  well-directed  rat,  some  time  deceased,  and 
lately  resurrected  from  an  unsavoury  grave,  took  Carus 
on  the  shoulder  and  dropped  to  the  ground.  He  turned 
angrily,  and  Mrs.  Stirling  would  not  have  recognised  as 
his  gentle  mother's  the  face  he  directed  towards  the 
unseen  Tom. 

"You  beastly  doctor's  cub,"  he  cried,  "wait  till  I 
catch  you.  I  '11  bang  you  till  you  can't  stand,  you  dirty 
little  drug-shop  sweep  !  " 

"  Yah,"  the  answer  came  back,  rudely,  "  you  said 
that  before,  and  much  came  of  it.  You  want  your 
game  —  well  —  take  it;  here's  some  more  if  you  like 
it !  " 

And  if  Felix  Carus's  piebald  pony  had  not  started 
away  at  that  moment,  a  cat  in  a  still  more  gamey 
condition  than  the  rat  might  have  been  added  to  the 
varied  contents  of  Mistress  Stirling's  saddle-bags. 


44 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    FRONT    DOOR    BELL    RINGS 

"T    TTAVE    they    truly   gone?"    was     Hester's    first 

I  I  question,  two  days  later,  as  she  awoke  to  find 
■*-  -■-  iMegsy  bending  over  her,  holding  her  breath, 
lest  she  should  rouse  her  too  soon. 

"  Aye,  dearie,  they  are  gane.  Never  ye  fret,  iny 
lamb  —  they  will  never  vex  ye  mair.  Megsy  will  keep 
ye  safe.  Foul  fa'  them  that  meddled  ye  —  the  taid  and 
the  ask  keep  watch  on  their  graves !  " 

"  Megsy,  they  are  my  cousins !  " 

"  Aye,  Megsy  kens  brawly,  but  that  is  nae  faut  of 
yours  !  Ye  couldna  help  that,  dearie  !  Sit  up,  then, 
and  tak'  bite  an'  sup  o'  this  fine  porridge  —  graund 
porridge  they  are  !  " 

"  I  don't  like  porridge,  Megsy  !  " 

"  Dinna  say  it,  lamb  !  There  never  was  a  true 
Stirlin'  yet  that  didna  sup  his  porridge  like  a  man.  Look 
at  thae  crowls  "  (/.  ^.,  crippled  or  deformed  persons)  "  o' 
Torphecchans,  as  they  caa'  themsels.  Deil  tak'  them 
for  their  impidence.  No  yin  o'  tham  wad  let  a  spuncfu' 
o'  guid  porridge  doon  their  throats !  Wad  my  braw 
lamb  grow  up  to  be  like  them,  ill-set  gorbs  o'  the  world 
that  thev  arc  ?  Tak'  the  porridge  and  guid  jicw  milk, 
dcnty.  And  ye  will  grow  up  sae  bonny  that  they  will 
cat  afF  their  fingers  wi'  fair  spite  and  jeelousy  !  " 

At  this,  Hester,  stung  with  great  desire  not  to  he  like 
any  of  her  cousins,  sat  up  in  bed,  making  only  a  little 
"  mouth  "  as  the  sore  foot  twinged,  and  fell  to  upon  the 

45 


THE     FRONT     DOOR     BELL     RINGS 

great  basin  of  porridge  Megsy  had  brought  her.  The 
faithful  Megsy's  anticipation  of  her  future  surpassing 
beauty  did  not  at  this  time  seem  likely  to  be  realised. 
For  Hester  Stirling  was  somewhat  pale  and  "  shilpit  "  as 
Megsy  expressed  it.  Her  skin  had  not  the  whiteness  of 
her  cousin  Ethel's,  or  her  figure  the  vigorous  robustness 
of  Victoria's.  She  had  not  the  large  regular  features  and 
statuesque  beauty  which  belonged  to  Claudia.  But  there 
was  a  witching  something  about  her,  at  once  wistful  and 
confiding,  that  drew  the  hearts  of  good  women  to  her. 
Her  eyes  were  dark  and  brilliant,  with  the  liquid  depths 
of  a  well  seen  under  trees  in  them,  so  that  most  men, 
even  when  passing  hurriedly  by,  would  for  no  reason  in 
particular,  turn  and  look  back  at  the  flitting  pensive  figure 
of  this  little  girl. 

*'  Noo  let  me  see  the  bit  scart  on  your  foot,  darlin'," 
said  Megsy,  "  hoot-toot !  It 's  juist  doin'  bonny.  Nae 
mair  than  a  flea-bite.  It  will  never  mar  ye  on  your 
marriage  morn,  dawtie  !      There —  there  !  " 

So  saying,  she  bound  it  up  again,  and  began  to  dress 
Hester  for  the  day,  commenting  freely  all  the  while  upon 
the  hated  Torphichans,  with  many  hopeful  anticipations 
of  their  evil  fortune  in  this  world  and  the  certainty  of 
worse  in  the  next,  mixed  with  comfortable  reflections 
upon  how  much  more  beautiful,  fortunate,  and  desirable 
should  be  the  lot  of  her  pet. 

At  the  very  moment  when  the  finishing  touches  were 
being  put  to  Hester  Stirling's  hair,  the  sound  of  a  cracked 
bell  tinkling  forlornly  far  down  in  the  bowels  of  the  old 
mansion  house  was  heard. 

"  Whatever 's  that?  "  cried  Megsy,  startled  so  that  she 
dropped  the  comb,  "surely  never  yin  o'  thae  ill-set 
blasties  come  back  again?  As  sure  as  daith,  I'll  look 
oot  o'  the    wast    chaumer    window,   and    gin  it   should 

46 


THE     FRONT     DOOR     BELL     RINGS 

be  onything  o'  the  name  o'  I'orplucchan,  I  '11  never 
steer  a  bit.  Praise  to  a  guid  Providence  baith  doors 
are  lockit  and  the  mistress  that  deaf,  she'll  never  hear 
a  IV hush  ! 

"  Alegsy,  you  must  n't !  "  argued  Hester,  "  some  ac- 
cident may  have  happened  !  " 

"  Nae  siccan  guid  luck,"  retorted  the  implacable 
Megsv,  tying  a  bow  of  ribbon  under  Hester's  neck  with 
a  jerk. 

"Oh,  Megsv,  you  hurt!  " 

"  Dearie,  my  dearie,  let  stupit  auld  Meg  kiss  it  better 
—  there,  dawtie  !  It 's  better  noo.  For  the  moment  I 
declare  I  thocht  ye  were  a  Torpheechan  !  Oh,  but 
I  wad  like  to  hae  them  to  dress  and  fondle.  Wad  I 
no  rug  the  verra  hair  oot  o'  their  heids  —  coorse  as 
horse-hair  it  is  —  whirl  them  aboot  by  their  lugs  like 
bummin'  teetotums,  aye  an'  never  a  preen  (pin)  wad  I 
put  intil  a  band,  but  they  should  find  the  point  o't  first!" 

The  tinkle-tank  of  the  cracked  bell  sounded  again  ere 
Megsy  had  ended  her  diatribes  against  all  the  clan  ot 
"  Torpheechan." 

"  Plague  on  the  richt  hand  that  poo'ed  it  ! "  cried 
Megsy,  "what  mean  they  by  a'  that  din  at  nine  o'clock 
in  the  mornin' ?  I'll  hac  to  rin  to  the  wast  window, 
or  they  will  wauken  the  mistress.  But  if  it 's  a  Torphee- 
chan-^  " 

Silence  fell  upon  the  little  girl's  room  as  the  vengeful 
Megsy's  footsteps  died  down  the  carpetless  passage  on 
her  way  to  the  "wast  "  window. 

Apparently  the  interrupter  of  the  morning  peace  of 
Arioland  had  not  proved  to  be  one  of  the  hated  house 
of  Torphichan,  for  Hester  could  hear  Megsy's  decided 
tread  quicken  as  she  hastily  closed  the  door  of  the 
"wast    chaumer  "    and    hurried    downstairs.      We    shall 

47 


THE     FRONT     DOOR     BELL     RINGS 

follow  her  and  see  who  it  was  she  found  waiting  in  the 
crisp  sunlight  of  that  autumn  morning. 

It  was  with  a  tremulous  heart  and  lip  and  a  hasty  hand 
that  Megsy  Tipperlin  opened  the  great  double-leafed 
front  door  of  Arioland.  At  ordinary  times  and  for 
ordinary  people  she  only  opened  one  half.  And  her 
procedure  in  shooting  back  all  the  bolts  and  opening 
both  doors  wide  to  the  wall  might  well  have  warned  those 
who  knew  Megsy  Tipperlin  that  some  one  with  re- 
markable claims  to  honour  stood  without. 

At  first  sight  it  did  not  seem  to  be  so.  The  man  who 
faced  round  to  meet  the  old  servant  of  the  Stirlings  was 
about  forty  years  of  age.  His  hair  showed  early  grey 
under  a  coarse  straw  hat  such  as  harvesters  wear.  He 
had  on  a  suit  of  rough  tweed  well  polished  by  use.  The 
skin  of  his  cheeks  and  hands  was  tanned  to  the  dry 
parchmenty  hue  which  betokens  long  exposure  to  a  tropi- 
cal sun. 

But  all  the  same  there  was  a  set  of  the  head  upon  the 
firm  shoulders,  an  air  about  the  way  he  had  of  tugging 
thoughtfully  at  his  long  grey  moustache,  and  an  assurance 
of  manner  in  turning  to  face  whoever  should  open  to 
him,  that  betokened  the  man  of  courage  and  breeding. 
There  was  also  a  certain  lurking  irony  about  the  mouth, 
an  occasional  downward  twitch  (as  if  a  humorous  re- 
miniscence gave  him  a  speedily  checked  occasion  for 
mirth),  which  proved  that  this  early  morning  visitor  to 
the  house  of  Arioland  was  a  man  who  could  be  the  best 
of  company  to  himself. 

But  the  effect  of  his  appearance  upon  Megsy 
Tipperlin  was  remarkable.  She  flung  up  her  arms  and 
her  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  all  the  while  continuing 
to  gaze  into  his   face. 

"  Davvid  —  Maister  Davvid  !  "  she  gasped,  in  the  half- 


THE     FRONT     DOOR     BELL     RINGS 

whisper  which  one  uses  in  a  chamber  of  the  dead. 
*' What 's  this  —  what's  this?  Arc  ye  risen  frae  your 
restin'  grave  —  or  are  ye  come  back  in  the  flesh  to  your 
a  in  wee  lass  ?  " 

The  grave  man  on  the  doorstep  smiled  strangely  and 
wistfully,  and  his  eyes  were  very  like  his  daughter's  when 
he  answered  : 

"  Neither  one,  nor,  as  yet,  the  other,  A'Icgsy  !  "  he 
said,  slowly,  "  I  am  come  to  say  a  word  to  my  mother  !  " 

"  Come  in  —  come  your  ways  in,  my  laddie.  A'  thing 
is  as  ye  left  it.  Ye  will  ken  never  a  differ !  The 
chaumers  and  the  parlour  and  the  wee  bit  room  wi'  the 
cages  that  ye  used  to  keep  your  birds  in  a'  are  the  same. 
It  was  bonny  to  hear  them  sing  in  the  simmer  morns. 
The  birdies  are  dead,  but  ye  will  find  the  cages.  I  hae 
keepit  them  a'  snod  and  clean  against  your  return.  I 
aye  said  ye  wad  come  back  —  I  aye  said  it,  Maister 
Davvid.      Come  ben  !      Come  your  ways  ben  !  " 

The  man  shook  his  head  slowly  and  the  humorous 
look  went   utterly  out  of  his   face. 

"  I  cannot,"  he  said,  "it  is  a  fine  morning  as  you  say, 
Megsy.  1  will  wait  for  my  mother  in  the  garden,  on  the 
stone  seat  by  the  sun-dial  !  " 

"XVae's  me,  Davvid,  surely  ye  hae  forgi'en  in  a'  thae 
weary  years!  —  Surely  ye  will  forgie  the  dead  gin  ye 
wadna  forgie  the  kevin' !  Your  faither  is  gane,  and  as 
(jod  is  my  judge  he  spcered  for  ye  kindly  afore  he  gaed 
awa'  on  his  last  journey.  '  Have  ye  heard  anything  of 
David,  my  son  ?  '  he  said,  speakin'  grand  and  slow  in  the 
way  he  had,  that  became  so  weel  a  pillar  o'  the  Kirk. 
'  Nane  but  this  puir  wee  bit  lass  that  he  gied  me  hame 
to  keep  when  his  wife  was  ta'en  frae  him  !  '  said  the 
mistress.  Then  he  meditated  a  while,  wi'  the  bridle 
tlirown  owcr  his  airm,  and  me  waitin'  wi'  the  stiirupcup 
4  49 


THE     FRONT     DOOR     BELL     RINGS 

as  was  his  custom.  *  If  it  should  happen  that  my  son 
comes  back  when  I  am  absent,  do  not  turn  him  away  ! ' 
quoth  he,  and  sae  mounted  and  rade !  " 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  the  man  in  the  straw  hat,  with  his 
eyes  on  the  ground,  "but  it  is  not  a  matter  of  forgive- 
ness, Megsy,  it  is  the  matter  of  the  swearing  of  an  oath. 
Here,  on  this  doorstep,  I  stood  with  my  young  wife  sick 
and  ill  on  my  arm.  I  was  refused  admittance  by  my 
father.  I  was  cast  out  like  a  dog.  And  here  in  your 
hearing  and  before  high  heaven  and  my  father's  face,  I 
swore  never  to  cross  this  threshold  —  and  neither  on 
earth  nor  as  it  might  chance  in  heaven  or  hell  to  change 
word  or  greeting  with  him  or  acknowledge  that  man  as 
any  kin  of  mine  !  " 

"  I  mind  —  I  mind  the  awesome  words  !  "  cried 
Megsy,  "  but  oh,  Adaister  Davvid,  forgie  the  dead.  For 
your  puir  mither's  sake.  For  the  sake  o'  the  wee  lamb 
sitting  in  her  bit  chair  up  the  stair  yonder,  dinna  haud  to 
a  hasty  word  spoken  in  anger.  Come  ben  and  bless  this 
hoose  yince  mair  wi'  the  presence  o'  its  only  son  !  " 

Again  David  Stirling  shook  his  head.  He  had  taken 
off  his  harvester's  hat,  and  his  hair,  though  still  crisp  and 
abundant,  was  streaked  with  white. 

"You  mean  well,  Megsy,"  he  said,  quietly,  still 
looking  at  the  dense  green  of  the  beech  hedge  curling 
its  leaves  a  little  edgewise  in  the  northerly  breeze,  "  but 
I  must  keep  my  word.  First  be  good  enough  to  ask  my 
mother  to  come  to  me  in  the  garden,  and  then,  after  a 
while,  let  me  see  my  little  girl !  " 


5° 


CHAPTER   VII 

HESTER'S    FORTUNE 

MEGSY  TIPPERLIN  did  not  answer  him,  but 
turned  to  go  within  to  her  mistress.  The 
visitor  also  strode  away  without  speaking 
towards  the  arch  cut  in  the  thickset  beech-and-privet 
hedge  which  shut  off  the  garden  from  the  gravelled  drive 
by  a  twenty-foot  wall  of  densest  foliage.  He  lifted  a 
small  black  bag  of  the  shape  accepted  of  bank  clerks  for 
collecting  moneys.  It  was  of  shiny  leather  and  had  a 
stripe  of  red  and  white  across  it  upon  either  side  of  the 
strong  handle. 

Megsy  went  up  to  the  bed-chamber  of  the  lady  of  Ario- 
land.  She  found  iMistress  Stirling  tying  the  strings  of  her 
black  "  kep  "  with  her  usual  care  and  circumspection. 

"Weel,  Megsy,"  she  began  as  she  caught  sight  of 
her  old  servant  in  the  glass,  "  an'  how  is  your  bairn  this 
mornin'  ?      IJrawly  better,  I  'm  in  hopes." 

As  Megsy  did  not  answer  at  once  her  mistress  turned 
about,  surprised  at  her  silence.  She  found  her  standing 
as  it  were  fighting  for  the  utterance  of  words  that  would 
not  come  at  all. 

"  What  is  't,  Mcgsv,  are  ye  no  wcel  ?  " 

"  Maistcr  Davvid  is  below.  Mistress,"  the  astonishing 
words  came  with  a  rush  at  last,  "  and  wad  speak  wi'  ye 
in  the  gairden  by  the  sun-dial  !  " 

It  seemed  as  if  the  old  lady  would  have  fallen,  but 
her  fifty  years  of  habitual  self-repression  saved  her. 
She   looked    Megsy    up   and   down. 

51 


HESTER' S     FORTUNE 

"  Ye  are  no  wise,  Megsy,  to  speak  that  gate  of  yin 
that  has  gane  to  a  better  place !  " 

"  I  kenna  aboot  a  better  place,"  said  Megsy  rallying 
to  find  her  word  doubted,  "  but  I  saw  him  wi'  thae  auld 
e'en  gang  into  the  garden  among  the  grosarts  no  twa 
minutes   since  !  " 

"  Then,  Megsy,"  cried  her  mistress,  "  ye  hae  seen  a 
spirit  !  " 

"  Speerit  here  —  speerit  there  —  speerits  dinna  carry 
bags  wi'  railway  tickets  on  them  !  Maister  Davvid  it 
was  in  the  flesh  and  withooten  ony  fail.  He  wants  the 
favour  o'   speech   wi'   you,   mem,  he   says." 

Megsy  was  on  her  dignity,  as  was  evident  from  the 
title  of  courtesy  she  gave  her  mistress.  For  Megsy 
Tipperlin  was  never  polite  save  when  her  pride  was 
hurt. 

"  My  son —  my  only  son,"  murmured  Isobel  Stirling, 
sitting  down  quietly  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  "  to  com- 
pose herself,"  as  she  would  have  said,  "  can  it  be  His 
wull  that  thae  auld  e'en  should  again  look  upon  their 
desire  ?  Shall  I  indeed  see  yince  mair  the  laddie  that  I 
prayed  for  to  be  the  well-beloved  and  the  first  born. 
Give  Thy  handmaiden   strength,  O   Lord  !  " 

At  such  a  time  she  spoke  easily  in  the  manner  if  not 
in  the  language  of  Scripture,  as  indeed  the  worthy 
Scottish  folk  of  her  class  and  age  still  do.  The  next 
moment,  dropping  instantly  into  the  vernacular  and 
raising  her   voice,   she  turned   upon  Megsy. 

"  And  if  Maister  Davvid  it  be,  what  were  ye  thinkin' 
on,  Marget  Tipperlin,  no  to  ask  him  ben  to  the  parlour  ? 
Is  he  no  the  eldest  bairn  o'  the  house,  though  heavy  has 
been  his  portion  and  dulefu'  his  heritage  ?  " 

Megsy  set  her  hands  palm  down  upon  her  sturdy  hips, 
fingers  forward,  thumbs  behind. 

52 


HESTER' S     FORTUNE 

'*  Hear  till  her,"  she  said,  ironically  (for  she  was  far 
past  the  stage  of  mere  politeness),  "  ask  Maistcr  Davvid 
to  come  ben  intil  his  ain  hoose  !  Ask  him  yince — ask 
him  twice  !  Gin  I  askit  him  twenty  times  it  is  mair 
like  it.  iMistress  Stirlin',  I  fleeched —  I  humbled  mysel' 
to  him  —  me  that  nursed  him  and  brocht  him  up,  me 
that  skelpit  him  till  my  bare  loof  dirled  mony  an'  mony 
a  time,  for  his  saul's  guid  I  An'  then  ye  say  to  me, 
'  What   for  no  didna  ye  ask  him   ben  ?  '  " 

"IVIegsy,"  said  her  mistress,  "give  me  your  arm.  I 
am  strangely  taken.  It  is  as  if  I  had  done  a  sore  day's 
work,  and  yet  I  have  scarce  stirred  across  the  floor. 
Megsy,  come  with  me  to  the  garden  gate.  Flytc  after, 
if  ye  like,  but  help  me  now.  I  am  an  old  woman,  and 
this  is  my  son,  my  only  son  !  " 

And  Alegsy,  easily  pacified  as  well  as  easily  irate, 
penitently  gave  her  mistress  the  support  of  her  strong 
arm.  P'or  her  sixty  years  had  not  a  whit  abated  her 
natural  force,  nor  yet  quelled  the  fiery  temper  which  in 
her  youth  had  sent  many  a  suitor  to  the  right  about  with 
a  flushed  cheek  and  a  ringing  ear. 

"  Ye  shall  come  wi'  me  till  I  see  his  back,"  said  the 
mother,  "  then  ye  will  gang  ahint  the  hedge  and  pray 
for  your  mistress.  Oh,  Megsy,  be  kindly  wi'  me  —  I 
am  an  auld  dune  woman — and  ye  kenna  what  it  is  to 
hac  a  bairn  break  your  heart,  for  ye  never  had  a  bairn, 
Marget !  " 

"  I  'II  never  be  withoot  a  bairn  as  lang  as  I  hae  you, 
mistress,"  said  Megsy,  shortly.  She  had  no  intention 
of  encouraging  her  mistress  in  any  such  melancholy 
reflections.  "  Davvid  is  strong  and  hearty;  and  see  you 
and  fleech  wi'  him  to  stop  stravagin'  ower  the  earth  and 
bide  decently  at  hamc.  I  '11  gang  and  sort  the  bairn. 
That    is  the  best   kind   o'   prayin'   I   can   do !  " 

53 


HESTER' S     FORTUNE 

Mistress  Stirling  looked  nervously  through  her  gold- 
rimmed  spectacles  towards  the  stone  seat  by  the  sun- 
dial, as  she  tottered  rather  than  walked  up  the  gravel 
between  the  thinning  leaves  of  the  gooseberry  bushes. 

The  sun-dial  of  Arioland  stood  in  the  middle  of  a 
green  plot.  Round  it  and  sheltered  by  tall  trees  ran  a 
row  of  stone  benches,  and  there  were  pedestals  at  the 
end  of  each  for  the  reception  of  busts  and  statues. 
But  probably  none  had  ever  occupied  them,  for  the 
only  marks  upon  the  grey  stone  were  those  of  the  green 
mould  from  the  winter  tree-droppings,  and  the  scratches 
and  chippings  inflicted  by  the  knives  of  many  genera- 
tions of  boyish  Stirlings  of  Arioland. 

When  David  heard  his  mother's  foot  he  rose  quickly 
and  came  to  her.  She  had  been  leaning  heavily  upon 
her  stick,  partly  owing  to  a  faintness  about  her  heart 
and  partly  from  the  loss  of  Megsy's  arm.  The  action 
took  her  son  by  the  throat.  His  mother  was  an  old 
woman.  He  had  not  thought  of  that  before.  It  was 
nearly  seven  years  since  he  had  looked  her  in  the  face 
—  indeed,  never  since  that  day  when,  defying  her  hus- 
band for  the  only  time  in  her  life,  she  had  arrived  in 
time  to  take  Hester  to  her  breast  out  of  the  arms  of  her 
dead  mother. 

"  David —  David  !  "  That  was  all  she  could  say,  and 
then  again,  after  a  pause  and  very  tenderly,  "  My  wee 
Davie  !  " 

And  she  bent  her  head  on  his  breast. 

*■'■  What  for  did  ye  no  let  your  mither  ken  ye  were  in 
life  ?     Was  it  kind,  David  ?  " 

Very  quietly  and  tenderly  David  Stirling  led  his 
mother  to  a  seat.  She  sat  down  with  difficulty,  and 
pressed  her  neatly-folded  handkerchief  to  her  forehead  as 
if  it  ached. 

54 


HESTER' S     EORTUNE 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  speaking  very  low,  yet  so  that  she 
could  hear  every  word,  "  I  did  not  know  that  my  father 
was  dead  till  six  months  ago.  Then  I  came  home  !  I 
had  my  word  to  keep  till  then,  you  know,  mother.  I 
also  am  a  Stirling  !  " 

"I  ken,  I  ken,"  said  his  mother,  "but  it's  a  terrible 
thing  to  pass  a  word  in  hot  bluid  and  keep  it  through 
years  cauld  and  mony.  Ye  were  two  headstrong  men, 
your  faithcr  and  vou  ;  and  as  ye  say  ye  were  Stirlings 
baith,  but  that  is  little  to  your  credit.  Yet  since  I 
married  one  of  your  name,  I  have  had  to  make  my 
reckoning  with  that.  But  had  ye  no  pity  for  the 
bairn  —  the  bairn  ye  left  me  to  succour  —  to  me  and 
Megsy  ? " 

She  added  the  last  clause  that  she  might  be  just,  for 
she  also  (though  originally  but  a  Waldron)  had  the 
Stirling  sense  of  righteousness. 

"  That  was  just  what  kept  me  away,  mother,"  he 
said.  "  I  .went  to  make  a  fortune.  Not  for  myself, 
God  knows  —  for  my  life  is  but  a  husk  without  the 
kernel  —  nor  yet  for  you,  for  during  your  life  you  have 
the  provision  which  ought  to  have  gone  down  to  me  and 
my  seed  after  me.  But  I  have  made  Hester's  fortune, 
mother  —  enough  and  to  spare  !  And  because  there  is  a 
great  danger  before  me,  I  come  to  put  it  in  your  hands. 
See,  mother  !  " 

He  lifted  the  striped  black  bag  from  the  ground  and 
touched  a  spring  somewhere.  The  top  opened,  and  as 
he  shifted  it  nearer  to  his  mother,  that  she  might  look, 
the  contents  gave  out  a  faint  tinkling  sound  like  the 
highest   notes   on   some   fairy   piano. 

At  first  the  wide  gold-rimmed  glasses  did  not  quite 
get  the  focus  of  the  contents,  but  presently,  as  David 
Stirling  dipped  his  hand  within,  his  mother  saw  a  glitter- 

55 


HESTER' S     FORTUNE 

ing  array  of  red  stones,  a  few  set,  most  of  them  cut,  but 
some,  and  those  the  largest,  yet  in  the  rough. 

"  What  are  these,  David,  that  ye  hae  gi'en  your  life 
for  ?  " 

"  Mother,  they  are  rubies.  I  discovered,  and  for  six 
years  have  worked,  a  mine  among  the  mountains  in 
North  Burmah.  It  is  a  thing  forbidden  —  a  Govern- 
ment monopoly.  But  that  which  a  man  risks  his  life 
for  I  count  his  own.  I  brought  these  through,  though 
the  King  had  men  upon  my  track.  I  had  two  partners, 
and  this  is  my  share,  which  I  have  brought  to  you  to 
keep  for  me  and  my  little  girl " 

"  David,  ye  are  never  thinkin'  o'  gangin'  away  back 
to  tak'  your  life  in  your  hands  ?  " 

"  Mother,  I  must,"  he  answered.  "  I  have  two 
partners  who  have  stood  by  me  like  steel.  They  are 
there  still  facing  the  danger ;  now  I  must  stand  by  them. 
I  have  put  their  shares  upon  the  market,  and  arranged 
all  as  they  wished  it  for  those  whom  they  left  at  home. 
For  me  I  had  none  but  you  and  this  little  girl.  I  do  not 
want  to  sell  at  present.  These  are  all  pigeon-blood 
rubies,  and  will  grow  in  value  every  year.  Besides,  with 
what  I  have  sold  on  behalf  of  my  partners,  here  and  in 
Holland,  there  are  more  than  enough  already  upon  the 
market.  I  want  you  to  keep  them.  Each  one  of  them 
is  inventoried  and  described.  They  will  one  day  be  my 
little  girl's  sufficient  dowry.  To-morrow  I  must  start 
out  again.  Hitherto  we  have  worked  as  the  old  fellows 
in  the  Bible  used  to  build  their  temple,  a  pick  in  one 
hand  and  a  repeating  rifle  in  the  other.  But  now,  at 
last,  there  is  a  chance  of  a  regular  concession,  and  of 
the  Indian  Government  taking  hold.  Meantime,  my 
partners  —  one  a  Scot,  like  myself,  and  the  other  a 
Dutchman — are  holding  the  fort,  and    if  they   are   still 

56 


H  E  S  T  E  R'  S     F  O  R  1^  U  N  E 

living  when  I  get  back  I  expect  they  will  have  spent 
some  cartridges  !  " 

"Oh,  David,  David,"  said  his  mother,  "if  ye  hae 
ony  love  tor  \our  auld  mither  dinna  ganiz;  awi'  again 
into  thae   heathen   ootland   pairts." 

"  Mother,  I  have  promised  !  " 

The  Lady  of  Arioland  gave  the  little  helpless  gesture 
of  the  hands  which  with  her  meant  finality.  A  criminal 
might  do  the  same  as  he  watched  the  judge  lifting  the 
black  cap.  She  had  lived  too  long  with  Stirlings  to 
attempt  to  change  her  son's  will  when  once  the  word 
had  passed  his  lips.  That  she  and  her  son  were  sitting 
there,  two  solitar)'  figures  within  the  high  circular  wall 
of  the  trees,  was  proof  enough  that  she  understood  this. 

"  And  what  am  I  to  do  wi'  siclike,  David  ?  "  she  said, 
abandoning  her  appeal  without  another  word  ;  "  they 
are  surely  vailable  ?  " 

"Put  them  in  a  safe  place,  mother  —  give  them  to 
your  banker  if  you  like.  The  papers  here"  —  as  he 
spoke  he  turned  the  bag  up  a  little,  so  that  the  bottom 
showed,  and  then,  moving  aside  one  of  the  plain  brass 
knobs  upon  which  it  rested,  an  oblong  lid  dropped  on 
concealed  hinges  and  several  papers  were  seen  in  a 
recess. 

"  Here,"  he  continued,  "  you  can  show  these  to  your 
lawyer  or  your  banker.  They  are  quite  enough  to  prove 
title.  Mv  agreement  with  my  partners  and  the  Am- 
sterdam cutter's   certificate    will   be  enough  to  establish 

o 

pedigree  for  the  cut  stones.  Then  this  is  my  will, 
giving  them  and  my  share  in  the  mine  —  if  ever  that  be 
worth  anything  —  to  my  little  girl  !" 

"  David,"  said  his  mother,  with  a  quaver  in  her  voice, 
"  I  am  an  auld  woman,  and  know  not  what  a  day  may 
bring  forth.      How  can  I  be  easy  in  mind  with  jewels  of 

57 


HESTER' S     FORTUNE 

price  in  the  house  ?  Give  them  into  a  banker's  hand 
yourself,  David !  " 

David  Stirling  smiled,  and  patted  his  mother's  arm. 

"  I  would  rather  trust  you,  and  take  the  risks,"  he 
said  ;  "  I  know^  no  one  here  vi'hom  I  could  depend  on 
as  between  man  and  man,  and  a  corporation  has  no 
bowels.  Donald  Simpson,  the  lawyer,  I  know,  and  he 
is  a  righteous  man,  but  he  sided  with  my  father,  and 
denied  me  even  the  favour  of  his  good  word  when  last  I 
called  upon  him.  The  stones  are  better  here  in  the  old 
house.  '  What  none  kens  of,  none  comes  seeking,'  as 
we  used  to  say.  Set  the  bag  on  a  top  shelf  of  your 
store  cupboard  in  the  parlour,  mother,  and  keep  the  key 
in  your  work-basket  among  the  bobbins  of  coloured 
silk." 


58 


CHAPTER    VIII 

A    MOTHER    IN    RAMAH 

THERE  was  the  sound  of  feet  moving  heavily  on 
the  gravelled  walk,  and  the  green  gate  under 
the  arch  in  the  beech  hedge  clicked  sharply. 

"Where  is  granny?"  David  Stirling  heard  a  clear 
young  voice  say,  a  voice  whose  tones  thrilled  him 
sharply  like  the  first  prick  of  a  surgeon's  knife,  making 
him  bite  his  lips  to  keep  down  a  cry. 

He  rose  at  the  sound,  and  there,  coming  towards  him 
up  the  walk,  was  Megsy  carrying  a  little  girl,  who  thus 
in  the  strong  arms  of  her  old  nurse  seemed  much 
younger  than  seven  years.  And  if  the  voice  had 
pricked  him,  the  eyes,  dark  and  lustrous,  with  the 
innocent  drawing  attraction  in  them  that  he  knew  so 
well,  pierced  him  to  the  heart. 

"  .VIcgsy,  set  me  down ;  I  will  not  be  carried  like  a 
baby,  I  can  walk  now  quite  well,  or  if  I  can't  walk  I 
can  hirple.      Megsy,  do  you  hear  ?  " 

The  listener  smiled  a  little  this  time,  for  if  the  voice 
and  eyes  were  another's  the  words  and  accent  were 
undoubtedly  those  of  his  own  race,  and  David  Waldron 
Stirling,  as  by  a  curious  back-spang  or  echo  of  memory, 
recognised  his  own  way  of  addressing  his  Burmah 
labourers. 

"Then  baud  up  the  sair  fit,  my  denty,"  said  Megsy, 
lowering  the  little  girl  carefully  to  the  ground,  but  keep- 
ing her  arm  still  about  hi-r.  "There  noo — hap  tentily, 
if  yc  will  hirple,  ye  contrairy  niaisterfu'  wcc  besom  !  " 

59 


A     MOTHER     IN     RAMAH 

Holding  one  foot  crooked  up,  Hester  hopped  as 
daintily  as  a  robin  redbreast  to  her  grandmother's  side, 
without,  however,  once  taking  her  eyes  off  the  unknown 
man.  For  Megsy,  though  sore  tempted  by  the  way, 
had  loyally  kept  the  secret.  Her  mistress  could  tell,  if 
she  liked,  who  the  visitor  was  that  had  so  quickly  risen 
at  their  coming  and  now  stood  gazing  so  raptly  at  little 
Hester  Stirling.  As  for  herself,  she  shut  her  thin  lips, 
and  clicked  the  gate  determinedly  behind  her  as  she 
went  back  to  her  kitchen. 

Then,  quite  suddenly  lifting  his  head,  the  stranger 
asked  the  little  girl  sharply,  what  was  the  matter  with 
her  foot. 

"I  hurt  it  climbing  the  wall  of  the  deer-park,  but 
Carus  got  the  thorn  out,  and  now  it  is  nearly  better." 

The  tall  grave  man  seemed  to  quiver  anew  at  the 
sound  of  Hester's  voice.  The  fresh,  confiding  tone  of  it 
laid  hold  of  him.  It  minded  him  of  one  who  had  given 
up  all  for  love.  And  it  seemed  that  he  looked  along  the 
same  perilous  way  which  this  little  one  must  tread. 

"  Hester,  my  bonny,"  said  her  grandmother,  "  ken  ye 
wha  this  is  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  my  father,  at  any  rate  !  "  was  the  quick, 
unexpected  answer.  "  I  have  prayed  for  him  to  come 
back  to  me  every  night." 

"  And  how  do  you  know  that  it  is  not  your  father  ,?  " 
said  David  Stirling, 

"  Because  my  father  is  a  beautiful  young  man,  with 
golden  hair,  and  oh,  such  a  bright,  glad  look  in  his  eyes  ! 
There  is  a  portrait  of  him  in  the  parlour.  You  can 
see  it  when  you  lift  the  big  box,  with  '  A  Present  from 
Ceylon'  on  it  in  pink  shells." 

"  And  am  I  not  a  beautiful  young  man,  with  a  bright 
look  on  my  face,  Hester  ?  "  queried  David,  quietly. 

60 


UksTKK,   'JIUS   IS   VuLK   lAiUKKl 


A     MOTHER     IN     RAM  AH 

"No,  indeed!      You  are  quite  old  —  your  hair  is  grey 

quite    grey,   do  you  know?      Hut   I    liopc   you    don't 

mind,  for  I  like  you.  Your  name  is  not  Torphichan,  is 
it  ?  " 

"No,"  said  David,  smiling,  "certainly  my  name  is 
not  Torphichan." 

"I  thought  not,"  said  Hester,  brightly — still,  how- 
ever, holding  her  grandmother  by  the  black  silk  of  her 
apron;  "you  look  kind,  and  you  would  n't  run  away  and 
leave  me  if  I  took  you  to  see  the  bower  and  had  hurt 
mv  foot  —  nor  set  a  horrid  dog  at  my  dear  HufFy  — 
nor " 

"  Did  the  Torphichans  do  these  things  ?  "  said  David 
Stirling,  the  corners  of  his  mouth  losing  their  humorous 
look,  and  the  likeness  to  the  portrait  of  his  father  in  the 
hall  coming  out  more  strongly  on  his  face. 

"Hoots  —  hoots,"  said  Hester's  grandmother,  "  dinna 
be  speakin'  nonsense.  It  was  but  some  bairns'  dis- 
agreement aniang  themsel's.  I  'm  sure  baith  Ethel  and 
Claudia  said  what  a  guid  kind  bairn  ye  were.  So  dinna 
speak  ony  ill  o'  them  that  spak  weel  o'  you  !  " 

"  I  won't,  granny.      But  all  the  same  it  is  true." 

"  Hester,  this  is  your  father !  " 

"  No,  no,  he  is  not  my  father !  " 

"Why  will  you  not  have  me  for  a  father?"  said 
David,  gravely,  to   Hester. 

"  Because  my  real  father  is  to  come  in  a  coach  and 
six  when  all  my  cousins  are  here,  and  take  granny  and 
me  and  Megsy  away  right  before  them.  He  is  to  sit 
on  the  box  and  mc  beside  him,  and  I  will  wave  my 
hand  and  say,  'The  grieve's  cart  will  be  rcnuid  for 
you  in  half  an  hour!  Sorry  you  can't  come  with  us! 
(jood-bye  ! '  " 

"  Well,"  said  David,  "  I  am  sorry  that  1  did  not 
6i 


A     MOTHER     IN     RAMAH 

come  with  a  coach  and  six.      But  just  the  same,  I  am 
your  father  ! " 

Tears  rose  in  Hester's  eyes,  and  a  little  sob  came  into 
her  throat. 

"What,"  he  said,  "are  you  disappointed?  Do  you 
not  like  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it 's  not  that,"  she  answered.  "  I  like  you  — 
yes,  very  much.  But  it 's  not  the  least  like  what  I 
thought  it  would  be." 

"  Then  you  expected  me  to  come  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Hester,  drying  her  tears,  and  smiling 
up  at  him  confidently.  "  Megsy  would  never  let  me  say 
so  without  snapping  me  up.  But  I  always  knew  you 
would   come  back  !  " 

"  Well,  now  that  I  am  here,  will  you  come  and  give 
me  a  kiss  ?  " 

"  I  can't  come  — 'cause  I  have  a  sore  foot.  You  must 
come  and  get  it.  " 

"It  was  well  worth  coming  for,  Hester  ! "  said  David, 
after  the  operation  was  complete,  "and  indeed  I  have 
come  a  great  deal  farther  than  that  for  it." 

"  How  far  ?  " 

"Roughly,  about  seven  thousand  miles,"  said  David. 

"That  is  farther  than  to  Edinburgh,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Ever  so  much  farther !  " 

"And  what  did  you  bring  me  all  that  way?"  was 
Hester's  next  question. 

"This!  "  said  David,  lifting  the  bag  with  the  red  and 
white  stripes  across  it. 

"  It  is  n't  very  pretty.  How  heavy  it  is  !  Can  I  have 
it  to  play  with  ? " 

"You  can  when  you  grow  up.  In  the  meanwhile 
your  grandmother  will  keep  it  for  you." 

"  Let  me  see  what  is  in  it !  " 
62 


A     MOTHER     IN     R  A  M  A  H 

Hester's  eyes  began  to  glow.  She  had  a  vision  of 
marvels  unspeakable,  and  she  was  definitely  disappointed 
when  she  saw  only  what  seemed  rather  smallish  bits  of 
red  glass,  and  some  not  nearly  so  bright  as  glass.  She 
was  sure  that  if  she  could  get  a  piece  of  the  window 
through  which  the  sun  shone  into  the  Kirk  of  St.  John 
on  Sunday  mornings  it  would  be  far  prettier.  Still, 
Hester  was  a  polite  little  girl  and  would  not  say  so  to 
hurt  anyone's  feelings. 

"  They  are  lovely,  indeed  !  "  she  said,  putting  her  hand 
within,  and  letting  a  handful  trickle  through  between  her 
fingers.  "  How  cool  they  are,  and  how  they  tickle  as 
they  drop  !  " 

*^  Yes,  Hester,"  said  her  father,  smiling.  "  Many 
people  have  an  itching  palm  for  just  such  little  bright 
things  as  these." 

*'  Can  I  have  just  one  ?  " 

Her  father  took  a  large  bright  ruby  and  gave  it  to 
Hester.  It;,  was  set  in  a  kind  of  clasp  or  necklace  of 
gold,  ver>'  curious   in   workmanship. 

"  David,  ye  mauna,  the  bairn  will  lose  it  !"  cried  his 
mother. 

"  Well,  let  her  !"  said  her  father,  "there  are  all  the 
others." 

"  Are  those  in  the  bag  red  beads  ?  "  queried  Hester, 
selecting  two  or  three  and  looking  for  the  holes.  "  I 
would  like  to  string  them." 

"They  are  not  for  stringing,"  said  her  father. 
"  You  must  grow  up,  I  am  afraid,  before  you  understand 
what  they  are  good  for." 

Very  reluctantly,  Hester  let  the  stones  trickle  back 
intf)  the  bag  and  withdrew  her  hand.  David  shut  the 
catch   with  a  snap. 

"  It  is  very  heavy,"  said  Hester,  trying  valiantly  to  lift  it, 
^3 


A     MOTHER     IN     RAMAH 

"  That  is  the  bag,  not  the  pretty  stones,"  said  her 
father.  "  It  is  made  of  steel  and  covered  with  leather. 
Would  you  like  to  see  how  it  opens  ?  " 

So,  sitting  there  on  the  stone  seat  with  the  old  lady's 
cap  keeping  up  a  constant  stir  of  tremulousness  and  the 
precious  stones  tinkling  pleasantly  between  them,  David 
Stirling  showed  his  heiress  how  to  unfasten  the  secret 
catch  which  allowed  the  key  to  work,  and  (what  took 
much  longer)  how  with  a  peculiar  circular  movement  to 
cause  the  false  bottom  to  turn  back  upon  its  hinges. 
The  papers  fell  out,  and  Hester  stooped  to  pick  them  up. 

"These  are  not  so  pretty  as  the  stones,"  she  said  to 
her  father.      "  Why  do  you  keep  them  together  ?  " 

"  Because  they  belong  to  each  other,"  said  her  father. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Hester,  brightly,  for  her  success 
with  the  movements  of  the  bag  had  raised  her  spirits  ; 
"  like  you  belong  to  me  and  I  belong  to  grandmother  — 
and  Megsy  ! " 

So  they  sat  there  hour  after  hour  till  the  sun  had 
mounted  to  the  zenith,  and  Megsy  Tipperlin,  with  a 
strange  look  on  her  face,  brought  out  a  tray  of  silver, 
old-fashioned  in  pattern,  but  with  the  silversmith's  polish 
yet  upon  it.  It  was  covered  with  bread,  sandwiches, 
scones,  butter,  and  cheese.  Next  she  set  a  decanter 
down  with  a  flourish. 

She  deposited  them  beside  David  Stirling  respectfully, 
and  drew  back  a  little.      He  began  to  shake  his  head. 

"  They  are  my  ain,"  said  the  old  maid  with  a  certain 
dignity ;  "  they  were  bocht  for  the  plenishin'  o'  Margaret 
Tipperlin's  hoose.  And  they  were  set  aside  when  — 
that  happened  which  happened.  They  hae  never  been 
used  since,  neither  silver  nor  glass.  Nae  hands  hae 
touched  them  but  mine.  Will  you  deign  to  taste,  Davvid 
Stirling  ?  " 

64 


A     MOTHER     IN     R  A  M  A  H 

"  Since  you  dare  me  like  that,  Megsy,"  said  Hester's 
father,  filling  a  glass,  "  I  have  no  choice.  I  drink  your 
health,  Megsy — and  yours,  mother  —  and  yours,  little 
one.  Grow  up  quickly  and  get  ready  to  play  with  your 
pretty  red  stones." 

In  this  fashion  David  Stirling  ate  and  drank  outside 
his  father's  house,  over  the  threshold  of  which  he  had 
sworn  never  to  set  his  foot.  His  mother  laid  a  shaking 
hand  a  little  furtively  on  the  back  of  his  as  it  rested  on 
his  knee,  and  Hester  looked  at  them  both  with  curious 
eyes. 

In  after  years  she  never  forgot  how  the  sunlight  lay 
on  the  grass,  and  how  towards  noon  the  image  of  the 
tall  sun-dial  shortened  till  it  seemed  no  more  than  a  blue- 
black  splash  on  the  grass,  as  if  somebody  had  spilled  ink 
there  and  forgotten  to  wipe  it  up. 

At  last  David  Stirling  stood  readv  to  depart.  He 
looked  about  for  his  straw  hat.  It  lay  some  distance 
away,  whecc  it  had  fallen  when  he  went  forward  to 
greet  his  mother.       Hester's  quick  eye  caught  his  desire. 

"  I  can  fetch  it  !  "  she  cried ;  "  see  me  hop  !  " 

And  sure  enough  she  was  back  in  a  moment  with  the 
hat  in  her  hand.  She  put  it  on  his  head,  as  he  bent  his 
body  to  receive  it. 

"  I  think  you  are  my  father  now,"  she  said  ;  "  you 
have  a   nice-shaped   head  !  " 

"Good-bye  for  the  present,  little  one!  "  he  said,  kiss- 
ing her  tenderly. 

"  You  are  going  ?  "  she  cried.  "  But  you  will  come 
back  again  to-morrow." 

"  It  may  not  be  tjuitc  to-morrow,"  said  David  Stir- 
ling, smiling  gravely  upcMi  her;  "but  some  day  I  will 
come  back  !  " 

He  turned  to  his  mother,  wlin  h:i(I  also  risen. 
5  65 


A     MOTHER     IN     RAMAH 

"  My  son  —  my  only  son  !  "  she  said,  as  she  put  down 
her  head  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Mother !  "  said  David. 

''  Dinna  gang  and  leave  this  auld  hoose  desolate, 
David.      Bide — bide  a  wee " 

"  I  cannot,  mother ;  my  word  —  the  word  of  a 
Stirling." 

"  Bide  for  the  bairn's  sake  —  for  the  sake  o'  — ye  mind 
wha  !  " 

"  I  know,  mother,  but  now  at  least  I  cannot  remain 
in  the  land  where  she  died  for  the  lack  of  that  which 
was  denied  her.  I  must  go  !  Give  me  your  blessing, 
mother  !  " 

Then  the  "  auld  leddy "  of  Arioland  lifted  up  her 
voice  and  wept,  like  one  of  those  mothers  in  Ramah, 
who  would  not  be  comforted,  because  their  children 
were  not.     And  this  was  her  firstborn  son. 

Little  Hester,  forgetting  her  lame  foot,  stood  up  and 
tugged  at  her  grandmother's  gown. 

"  Grandma  —  grandma,  what  for  do  ye  greet  ?  "  she 
cried,  breaking  into  dialect  at  the  sound  of  her  friend's 
distress.  "  I  '11  gie  ye  my  dolly,  my  best  dolly,  if  ye 
winna  greet.  I  '11  gie  ye  Fluffy.  I  '11  never  play  at 
mud  pies  on  Sabbaths,  but  sit  in  a  chair  an'  read  a  book. 
Only  dinna  greet,  granny,  I  canna  bear  ye  to  greet.  If 
ye  greet  Hester  will  greet  too !  How  will  ye  like 
that  ? " 

But  the  old  woman  did  not  hear  her.  She  only  lifted 
up  her  head,  and  with  her  hands  upon  her  son's  shoulders, 
and  looking  into  his  face,  she  gave  him  the  benediction 
Aaronic,  sanctified  by  generations  of  use  in  Scottish 
homes,  whence  sons  and  daughters  go  forth  alone  into 
the  world  of  unknown  things. 

"  The  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee.  The  Lord 
66 


A     MOTHER     IN     R  A  M  A  H 

make  His  face  shine  upon  thee  and  be  gracious  unto 
thee.  The  Lord  litt  up  His  countenance  upon  thee,  and 
give  thee  peace." 

Thus  departed,  with  a  mother's  blessing  on  his  head, 
the  son  who  had  last  gone  forth  from  Arioland  bearing 
the  weight  of  a  father's  curse. 


67 


CHAPTER   IX 

MEGSY'S  ROMANCE         ' 

IT  was  in  Megsy's  clean-scoured  kitchen,  and  that 
lady  was  washing  her  dishes  and  polishing  her 
private  store  of  silver.  She  had  just  begun  to  give 
a  wholly  superfluous  rub  to  the  salver  on  which  she  had 
taken  out  refreshments  to  the  Stirling  who  would  not  so 
much  as  enter  the  house  of  his  fathers,  when  a  knock 
came  to  the  back  door.  Megsy  had  heard  the  step  upon 
the  brae  which  heralded  the  summons.  She  breathed 
upon  a  doubtful  spot  before  she  replied,  without  moving 
or  looking  up,  "  Come  in,  Anders !  If  ye  hae  brocht 
ony  mair  o'  your  nesty  fish  wi'  ye,  ye  can  e'en  clean 
them  yoursel'  !  For  Megsy  Tipperlin  has  as  muckle 
as  she  can  do  without  thumbing  a'  the  afternoon  at 
slaistery  fish  !  " 

"They're  guid  loch  trout,  Megsy,"  said  a  voice  at  the 
door,  "  and  my  feet  are  clean.     Can  I  no  come  ben  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see ! "  quoth,  uncompromisingly,  the 
mistress  of  the  lower  parts  of  the  house  of  Arioland. 
"  Ow  aye,  I  daresay  ye  can  come  ben ;  but  tak'  your 
great  wheelbarrows  o'  boots  aff,  and  leave  them  oot 
there  by  at  the  door  cheek.  Ye  '11  no  be  nair  the  waur 
o'  sittin'  a  while  in  your  stockin'  soles,  at  a  decent 
woman's  fireside  !  " 

"  Ah,  Megsy,  gin  I  had  my  will  o't  ye  should  be 
sittin'  caigily  at  mine  !  " 

There  was  an  interval  filled  with  external  sounds  of 
struggle  and   stress.     Then  a   ruddy-faced   grey-headed 

68 


M  E  G  S  Y'  S     ROMANCE 

man  entered,  walking  softly  on  his  stocking  feet  like 
one  who  takes  heed  to  his  going.  This  was  Anders 
IVIacQuaker,  fisherman,  authority  on  sport,  busker  of 
flies,  general  gossip  and  "  everybody's  body  "  — through- 
out all  the  Strath  of  Ken,  and  even  unto  Luce  Bay,  and 
the  uttermost  parts  of  Minnigaff. 

"  What 's  that  ye  say,  Anders  ?  "  cried  Megsy  from  the 
depths  of  the  cheese-room.  She  had  by  no  means 
waited  to  receive  her  guest,  but  went  on  with  her  work 
without  so  much  as  lifting  an  eye  in  the  direction  of  the 
door. 

"  I  was  sayin,'  Megsy,  that  my  heart  was  set  on  ye 
to  siccan  a  degree  that " 

"  Then  if  it's  no  frettin'  ye  —  ye  can  juist  keep  it  set 
for  five  meenites  mair  till  I  feed  the  hens!  "  said  Megsy, 
unfeelingly,  as  she  passed  out  with  a  great  bowl  of 
"  daich "  or  freshly-stirred  meal  and  water,  for  her 
beloved  fowls.  They  were  well-bred  hens,  too,  and 
never  attempted  to  cross  the  clean-scoured  step  of 
Arioland  back  door.  And  the  fear  of  Megsy's  dishclout 
even  kept  them  on  the  other  side  of  a  certain  unmarked 
but  faithfully  observed  boundary-line,  which  was  drawn 
from  the  corner  of  the  front  door  gravel  about  the 
flower-beds,  concluding  at  the  kitchen  window.  Beyond 
this  scientific  frontier  Megsy's  happy  flock  had  scope 
and  freedom  limitless,  and  they  were  duly  fed  twice  a 
day  to  teach  them  to  bide  at  hame,  and  never  lay  away, 
like  common  uncovcnantcd  chuckies. 

"And  ye  were  rcmarkin',  Anders,  when  I  gacd  oot?" 

Upon  her  return  Megsy  thus  encouraged  her  visitor 
to  proceed  so  soon  as  she  had  dusted  the  "  daich  "  from 
her  hands,  and  got  down  the  bakc-board  in  order  to 
begin  the  yet  more  important  operation  of  "  baking  the 
cake." 

69 


MEGSY'S     ROMANCE 

Now  there  is  no  prettier  sight  than  this  to  be  seen  in 
Galloway,  hardly  even  a  blanket  washing  when  coats 
are  kilted  for  the  tramping,  when  the  sun  deepens  the 
colour  on  rosy  cheeks,  and  well-shaped  ankles  shine 
white  as  the  flashing  heels  of  Mercury  himself. 

Many  promising  courtships  begin  this  way.  And  a 
pretty  girl  certainly  looks  her  prettiest  with  arms  bared 
well-nigh  to  the  shoulder,  while  the  to-and-fro  move- 
ment of  the  roller  on  the  bake-board  brings  out  all  the 
most  fascinating  graces  of  movement  and  play  of 
dimpled  elbow. 

"  Rap  !  Rap  !  Rap  !  Rap  !  "  It  comes  to  the  ear  in 
varied  keys  of  sound,  dull  and  sharp,  according  to  the 
thickness  of  the  dough  beneath.  At  intervals  a  hand 
showers  a  delicate  top-dressing  of  flour  with  a  twist  of 
the  wrist  much  admired  by  connoisseurs,  and  indeed 
worthy  of  being  noted  by  all.  This  is  generally  accom- 
panied by  a  smile  at  the  attendant  youth,  so  he  be  a 
worthy  one  and  deserving  of  having  trouble  taken  with 
him.  Immediately  after  this  the  cakes  need  attending 
to.  They  have  already  been  removed  from  the  round 
iron  girdle  which  hangs  over  the  clear  fire,  a  fire 
gentle,  mild,  and  insinuating,  no  roisterous  flame,  but  a 
"griesoch"  rather,  mellow  and  mellowing  all  about  it. 

The  same  pretty  hands,  the  flour  being  touched  away 
with  the  corner  of  snowy  apron,  now  take  the  oaten 
cakes  and  turn  them  at  the  side  of  the  fire,  setting  each 
at  the  proper  angle  to  get  the  best  of  the  heat,  so  that 
it  may  come  forth  a  worthy  cake,  light  in  the  mouth, 
crisp  to  the  tooth,  and  much  to  be  desired  as  fare  fit  for 
the  gods!  After  this,  such  knitting  of  brows  —  such 
poisings  of  head  to  decide  whether  the  fortunate  cake 
be  ready  or  not !  Then  —  almost  as  if  it  were  a  theft, 
sweet  and  pardonable  as  that  other  which  (in  intent)  has 

70 


M  E  G  S  Y'  S     ROMANCE 

been  in  the  young  man's  head  for  the  last  quarter  of  an 
hour,  the  least  crumb  is  broken  off  the  corner  —  follows 
a  flash  of  white  teeth  as  it  is  tested,  and  the  rest  offered 
to  the  worthy  observer. 

At  this  point  the  youth,  if  he  have  in  him  any  man- 
hood, or  the  adventurous  spirit  which  makes  its  way  with 
maids  even  in  staid  Galloway,  slides  off  the  corner  of 
the  table,  and  —  but  let  all  those  who  have  assisted  at 
such  bakings  of  the  cake  recall  to  themselves  what 
happens  then.  There  be  heads  grey  and  heads  white 
and  heads  (alas,  that  ever  it  should  be  so !)  already 
growing  thin  or  shiny  a-top  whose  locks  were  once  like 
the  raven.  There  be  hearts  which  once  bounded  fiery 
as  barbs  under  the  snowy  baking-apron,  that  are  now 
covered  by  the  staid  dove's  grey  of  the  "  old  maid,"  or 
oftener  still  by  the  widow's  plain  black- — yet  neither 
head  nor  heart  hath  ever  forgotten  the  baking  of  the 
cake,  nor  yet  that  tell-tale  print  of  a  small  floury  hand 
upon  a  shoulder,  on  account  of  which,  issuing  forth,  the 
favoured  swain  endured  not  all  unwillingly  his  comrades' 
envious  laughter. 

Not  thus,  however,  but  quite  otherwise  was  the  baking 
of  Megsy,  and  if  that  resourceful  lady  called  to  mind 
other  bakings  across  the  years,  nothing  of  the  remem- 
brance showed   on   her  large  and  steadfast   face. 

Anders  the  fisherman  set  him  purposefully  down  by  a 
large  basin,  which  he  brought  softly  from  a  little  pantry, 
whose  shelves  were  of  the  purple  Parton  slate,  beautifully 
spotted  and  splashed  with  green.  Into  this  he  proceeded 
to  "clean"  the  fish  he  had  brought.  Large  and  fine 
loch  trout  they  were,  even  as  he  had  said,  speckled  and 
freckled  with  orange  and  saffron,  and  their  sleek  firm 
sides  yet  shining  from  the  wet  bracken  in  which  they 
had  been  wrapped. 

7« 


MEGSY'S     ROMANCE 

Anders  MacQuaker  cleaned  awhile  in  silence,  while 
the  purposeful  dunt-dunt  of  Megsy's  roller  of  wood  on 
the  bake-board  alone  broke  the  silence. 

"  Ye  had  better  oot  wi'  it,  and  get  it  by  for  the  nicht, 
Anders!"  said  the  baker  of  cakes,  presently;  "ye  hae 
come  to  do  it,  I  can  see  !  " 

"  Ye  are  richt,  Megsy,  it  wad  maybe  be  as  weel !  " 
responded,  with  equal  sobriety,  the  cleaner  of  fish, 
sticking  to  his  task. 

"  Weel  than  !  "  said  Megsy,  like  one  definitely  ex- 
pectant, lifting  her  roller  so  that  it  stood  up  on  end, 
in  order  with  short  taps  to  shake  off  the  superfluous 
meal. 

"  Hae  ye  thocht  ower  what  I  said  to  ye  the  last  time 
I  was  here,  Megsy  ?  "  said  Anders,  swiftly .  and  scien- 
tifically running  his  sharp  and  crooked  knife  along  the 
trout's  white  under-edge. 

"  And  what  was  that  ?  " 

Megsy's  question  came  out  sharp  as  a  warning  whip 
cracked  close  to  the  ear  of  a  misbehaving  horse. 

"  Margaret  Tipperlin,"  said  the  fisherman,  solemnly, 
"  maybes  ye  think  because  I  am  a  bit  o'  a  sportin' 
character,  and  no  juist  what  ye  wad  caa'  a  tradesman 
brocht  up  to  ony  particular  trade,  that  ye  can  lichtly 
me  !  I  'm  no  reminding  ye  that  ye  didna  think  sae 
yince.     We  '11  let  that  flea  stick  to  the  wa' !  " 

"  Ye  had  better ! "  put  in  Megsy,  warningly,  her 
elbows  working  over  the  bake-board  like  the  cylinders 
of  twin-engines,  "  your  health  is  no  that  guid,  that  I 
ken  o'!" 

"  But,  Megsy,"  said  Anders,  ignoring  her  warning,  or, 
rather,  dodging  about  it  like  a  boy  playing  at  "  tig  "  with 
his  fellows,  "  ye  maun  mind  that  though  I  hae  been  a 
kind  o'  sportin'  character  a'  my  life,  nae  man,  landlord, 

72 


MEGSY'S   ROMANCE 

nor  magistrate,  has  ever  had  a  word  to  say  against  me. 
And  that 's  a  deal  to  claim  for  a  man  that  is  as  tond  o' 
the  tin  and  the  fur  and  the  feather  as  Anders  Mac- 
Ouakcr   o'   the   Clachan  o'  Sant  John  ! 

"  iMair  nor  that,  Alegsy.  I  may  tak'  a  dram  —  but 
what  the  waur  am  I  ?  Did  ony  man  ever  see  Anders 
mistak'  the  breadth  o'  the  road  for  the  length  o't  ?  And 
if  I  be  no  tradesman  o'  ony  ae  trade,  I  can  put  my  hand 
to  mair  trades  than  onv  man  in  the  country  

"'  Maister  o'  nane,'  says  you.  Maybe,  Mcgsy  —  but 
they  hae  keepit  me  weel  pit  on  and  weel  provided  wi' 
stieve  bellv-timber  for  mair  years  than  I  like  to  mention 
when  I  am  on  this  errant.  (Hae  ye  a  muckle  plate  to 
pit  this  next  half  dizzen  troots  on,  Megsy  ?  Thank 
ye  !  )  Thae  half-trades  o'  mine  hae  biggit  me  a  hoose, 
and  I  might  say,  if  that  were  the  maitter  o'  a  boast,  that 
they  hae  made  me  an  officer  o'  the  kirk.  Was  there 
ever  sic  a  thing  kenned  as  that  a  man  like  me,  a  watcher 
by  waters  ta  stop  the  black  fishin',  an  orra  man  at  a' 
jobs,  a  bee-skep  maker,  a  mender  o'  auld  pots  and  pans, 
should  yet  hae  a  slated  hoose  o'  his  ain  and  be  made 
officer  o'  the  kirk  ?  And  a'  that,  Megsy,  I  hae  dune  for 
your  sake.  But  the  hoose  is  juist  terrible  lonesome, 
Megsy,  wantin'  you.  And  even  buskin'  salmon  huiks  is 
no  to  be  caa'ed  ony  real  compensation  to  a  thin  kin' 
man  ! 

*'  Sac  for  the  last  time  I  ask  ye,  Megsy,  will  ye  no 
gie  the  auld  leddy  in  your  warnin'  ?  I  need  ye  mair 
nor  her  !  She  has  gotten  a  dochter  to  gang  to,  and 
they  say  she  's  failin',  that  she  's  no  lang  for  this  warl' 
ony  way  ! " 

There  was  silence  again  as  Megsv  put  the  finishing 
touches  to  her  hatch.  Then,  withtjut  the  least  sign  that 
she    had    heard,  she  erected   the  roller  a;j;ain,  and    with   a 

73 


MEGSY'S     ROMANCE 

flexible  knife  kept  for  the  purpose  she  striped  the  firmly 
adherent  dough  from  the  smooth  rotundity  of  her  pin. 
This  being  done  to  her  satisfaction  she  turned  upon  her 
suitor. 

"  Hae  ye  dune  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Aye  !  "  said  Anders,  selecting  a  fresh  trout  with 
a  mournful  countenance,  as  if  he  had  spoken  indeed 
to  relieve  his  mind,  but  without  any  real  hope  of 
success. 

"  Is  a'  said  that  ye  cam'  to  say  ?  " 

«  A'  is  said,  Megsy." 

"  Then,  listen  !  " 

For  the  first  time  Megsy  Tipperlin  turned  fairly 
round  towards  Anders,  who,  however,  went  on  slitting 
up  his  trout  and  disembowelling  them  with  the  same 
indescribably  technical  motion  of  the  thumb  he  had  been 
using.  "  First  and  foremost,  it  is  gi'en  to  me  to  say 
that  it  wad  far  better  become  a  man  o'  your  years  and 
an  officer  o'  the  kirk  to  be  thinkin'  on  your  latter  end, 
and,  as  it  were,  makin'  your  peace  wi'  your  Maker  for 
being  sae  conceited  aboot  yoursel'  !  Did  you  no  hear 
the  minister  say,  last  Sabbath  nae  farther  gane,  that  sinful 
pride  was  the  unpardonable  sin.  Aweel,  he  said  sae, 
whether  ye  heard  it  or  no.  I  ken  noo  what  for  the 
kirk  officer's  seat  is  higher  in  the  back  than  a'  the 
rest  !  " 

"  I  wasna  sleepin',  Megsy,"  Anders  answered  without 
heat,  "  it  micht  hae  been,  but  as  a  maitter  o'  fact  it 
wasna  !  " 

"Weel,  in  the  second  place  (fegs,  I  think  I  could 
preach  no  that  ill  a  sermon  mysel'),  let  me  bring  to 
your  remembrance  that  yince  near  on  to  forty  year  since, 
ye  speered  Marget  Tipperlin  afore.  She  was  Marget 
Tipperlin  then  and  she  is  Marget  Tipperlin  noo.      But 

74 


M  E  G  S  Y'  S     ROMANCE 

she  was  young  and  foolish  then.  She  is  neither  yin  nor 
yet  the  ither  noo.  And  the  silly  hizzy  promised  to  he 
your  wife,  and  there  was  a  copybook  lang  burnt  to  ash 
wi'  a  page  in  it  a'  scrawled  ower  wi'  the  words, 
'  Margaret  MacQiiakcr,  her  book  !  '  For  the  foolish 
lass  wanted  to  see  hoo  the  name  wad  look.  She  was 
young,  though,  in  thae  auld  days,  but  she  had  a  lovin' 
heart,  though  the  lass  was  never  what  ye  wad  caa'  bonny. 
For  though  mony  a  time  ye  telled  her  that  she  was, 
Anders,  she  never  fairly  believed  ye.  And  that  maybe 
was  the  savin'  o'  the  bit  lass. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  there  cam'  a  bonnier  in  your 
road.  Aye,  Anders  MacQuaker  —  aye,  I  do  her  that 
justice!  She  was  far  bonnier  nor  me.  I  name  no  her 
name.  I  speak  nae  ill  o'  the  dead.  She  was  a  woman 
bonny  to  look  upon  !      God  rest  her  soul  !  " 

"Amen!  "said  Anders,  and  the  tear  was  in  his  eye, 
though  that  did  not  prevent  him  squinting  as  critically 
as  ever  a-long  the  belly  of  the  next  fish. 

"  Yet  a'  the  time  ye  were  trysted  to  me,  and  ye  cam' 
to  see  me  —  first  every  second  nicht,  then  every  third, 
and  then  yince  a  week,  slower  and  slower  like  a  mill- 
wheel  stoppin',  till  last  o'  a'  the  countryside  I  heard 
where  it  was  ye  spent  the  rest  o'  your  forenichts. 
Then  I  heard  that  names  were  to  be  cried  in  the 
kirk  on  Sabbath,  and  they  telled  me  to  bide  awa'. 
But  I  gaed,  for  I  trusted  ye,  Anders,  and  I  kenned 
nae  ill  that  I  had  dune  yc !  Then  I  heard  the  name 
that  I  wrote  on  the  copy  book,  the  name  that  should 
hae  been  my  ain,  cried  wi'  purpose  o'  marriage  to  anither 
lass." 

"Oh,  Margct,  woman,  woman,"  groaned  Anders,  now 
cut  to  the  quick,  "  is  forty  year  no  lang  enouch .?  Will 
ye  no  let  that  suffice  ?  " 

75 


MEGSY'S     ROMANCE 

"  For  a  man  —  aye,"  said  Megsy,  sternly,  standing 
her  ground,  and  looking  steadily  at  the  suitor  before 
her.  At  last  Anders  dropped  fish  and  knife  together, 
letting  the  latter  fall  on  the  floor  with  a  ringing  clatter 
—  "  it  is  ower  lang  for  a  man  —  forty  months,  aye,  or 
forty  weeks  serve  a  man  to  forget  in.  But  never  a 
woman  that  has  been  slighted  and  lichtlied  as  Marget 
Tipperlin  was  slighted  and  made  licht  o'  before  a'  the 
parish  o'  Sant  John  !  " 

"  Then  ye  winna  come,  Megsy  ?  The  slated  hoose  is 
to  stand  lonely  yet  ?  " 

"  Neither  now  nor  ever,  Anders.  Ye  shall  never  hae 
the  chance  to  serve  the  auld  woman  as  ye  served  the 
young !  The  copy-book  is  gane  to  the  winds  and  sae  is 
the  silly  young  lass  that  yince  on  a  day  wrote  doon 
'  Marget  MacQuaker'  in  it !  Gang  your  ways,  Anders. 
Ye  come  on  a  fule's  errand  !  Never  let  me  hear  the  like 
oot  o'  your  mouth  again  !  " 

The  fisherman  rose  without  a  word,  and  went  out 
upon  his  stocking  feet  to  where  he  had  left  his  boots. 
The  trout  were  neatly  arranged  on  the  table,  laid  out 
upon  a  couple  of  clean  platters. 

From  the  window,  Megsy  watched  his  retreating 
figure  down  the  avenue,  till  it  grew  faint  and  fainter, 
and  then  vanished.  There  was  a  smile  upon  her  lips. 
That  was  obvious  to  all.  And  if  you  had  looked  closer, 
you  might  have  seen  something  like  a  tear  in  her 
eye. 

"  I  hae  settled  Anders  this  time,  for  guid  an'  a',  I  'm 
thinkin'  ! "  she  was  saying  to  herself  as  she  clinked 
the  platters  of  speckled  beauties  down  upon  the  clean 
purple  coolness  of  the  Parton  slate. 

All  the  same,  Megsy  would  have  been  greatly  dis- 
appointed if  he  had  not  been   back  within  a  month  with 

76 


M  E  G  S  Y'  S     ROMANCE 

the  self-same  tale.     And  so  it  had  been  between  them 
for  over  thirty  years. 

For  Megsy  Tipperlin  and  Anders  MacQiiaker  were 
in  their  hearts  very  good  friends,  neither  bearing  any 
grudge  for  the  things  that  had  been,  nor  the  things  that 
might  have  been,  but  were  not. 


77 


CHAPTER   X 

A    HOUSE   LEFT    DESOLATE 

THE  shiny  black  bag,  with  the  red  and  white 
bands  about  it,  sat  for  many  days  among  the 
accumulating  products  of  the  Arioland  orchard 
and  garden  —  the  neat  white  pots  of  red  currant  jelly, 
beloved  by  Carus,  the  larger  dishes  of  gooseberry  preserve, 
the  marmalade,  with  long  amber  straws  lying  across  it, 
accurately  cut  into  lengths,  and  the  more  plastic  parts 
deep  and  rich  like  cairngorms.  After  a  while  it  got 
shoved  a  little  farther  back  upon  the  ample  shelves,  as 
the  autumnal  days  crept  in  shorter,  and  the  honeycomb 
began  to  arrive.  There  were  no  "  sections "  in  those 
days  —  no  hives  scientifically  contrived.  The  poor  bees 
had  perforce  to  be  content  with  their  straw-built  tene- 
ment, labouring  late  and  early  to  fill  it  to  the  utmost 
peak.  This  would  have  pleased  them  well  enough,  but 
alas,  one  autumn  night  when  the  winds  were  still,  or  only 
blew  up  the  strath  with  a  kind  of  sucking  breath,  there 
came  Anders  MacQuaker  with  reek  of  burning  sulphur. 
And  the  next  day,  lo  !  the  black  bag  with  the  bands  was 
pushed  yet  farther  back,  as  combs  of  rich  honey,  ridged 
and  shaped  to  the  convolutions  of  the  "  skep,"  were  laid 
upon  each  other  like  huge  piled  toadstools.  The  whole 
house  was  scented  with  the  "straining"  of  amber  honey 
as  the  nets  of  gauze,  swung  between  the  backs  of  chairs 
dripped  their  slow-running  silent-falling  freight  into  the 
appointed  jars  of  clear  glass. 

78 


A     HOUSE     LEFT     DESOLATE 

The  farthest  back,  and  the  nearest  to  the  striped  bag 
were  the  "  iirstings,"  the  combs  of  the  springtime,  deli- 
cately green,  as  if  the  bees  had  extracted  some  of  the 
mounting  sap.  These  pots  seemed  to  be  fragrant  with 
a  faint,  far-away  wild-wood  breath  of  crocus  and  wind 
flower,  and  the  blowing  heads  of  Lent  lilies.  The  next 
were  of  fuller  flavour  —  alternately  amber  and  tawny, 
trom  the  clover  of  pasture-fields,  over  which  the  soft 
winds  of  June  had  blown  through  the  short  and  merciful 
nights.  Then,  golden-brown  as  the  pools  where  the 
salmon  sulk  waiting  for  the  floods  that  they  may  leap 
upward,  arrived  the  first  heather  honey,  product  of  the 
purple  ling,  which  clothed  the  sides  of  the  Bennan  and 
gleamed  afar  upon  Ben  Gairn.  Last  of  all,  keen-scented 
as  wood  smoke,  vet  with  a  tang  to  it  like  nothing  else  in 
the  world,  most  precious  conserve  of  leagues  of  the  true 
heather,  vvine-rcd  and  glorious,  were  Hester's  favourite 
dark-brown  combs,  through  which  the  knife  cuts  clean 
and  luscious,  revealing  the  scented  essence  which  the  bees 
carried  while  the  shots  were  cracking  and  the  grouse 
falling  over  the  leagues  of  moorland.  There  was  most 
of  this,  for  that  was  the  best  vintage  which  the  Master 
of  the  Bees  had  kept  to  the  last.  The  hives  for  the 
heather-honey  had  been  carried  in  jolting  carts  up  to  the 
purple  sides  of  the  Black  Craig,  and  there  left  —  a  busy 
little  colony  —  to  their  own  resources,  till  the  heather 
browned  and  grew  dry  and  rustling  as  silver-shakers  in 
the  keen  winds  of  the  moorland. 

And  ever  the  striped  bag  was  pushed  farther  and  farther 
back,  till  none  remembered  it  save  the  mistress  of  the 
house  of  Arioland,  and  she  only  occasionally,  and  that 
she  might  put  the  thought  of  it  from  her  for  a  season. 

For  it  lay  upon  her  like  a  weight  that  she  should  be 
required  to  drive  down   the   long  valley  to  the   station, 

79 


A     HOUSE     LEFT     DESOLATE 

wait  till  the  bustling  train  came  snorting  over  the  Stroan 
viaduct,  soughing  out  of  the  Big  Cutting  and  silently 
approaching  over  the  padded  levels  of  Mossdale,  till  at 
last  the  engine  shoved  a  black  inquisitive  forehead  under 
the  high  arched  bridge  and,  with  a  hush  and  creaking 
of  brakes,  the  train  slid  alongside  the  little  flower-girt 
platform. 

Good  Mistress  Stirling  did  not  like  the  railway,  or 
indeed  anything  that  went  at  one  particular  time.  She 
resented  the  haste  with  which  the  train  passes  spots 
desirable  to  be  looked  upon,  farms  that  ought  to  be 
leisurely  gossiped  about.  What  right  had  its  snorting 
fussiness  to  intrude  upon  the  cud-chewing  kine  and  send 
them  flying  with  tails  in  the  air  ?  It  was  bound  to  be 
bad  for  the  milk,  and  might  one  day  bring  a  judgment 
upon  the  country. 

"  It  wasna  sae  in  my  young  days,"  she  would  object, 
"there  were  nane  o'  thae  nasty  scraichin'  (screeching) 
machines  raging  through  God's  bonny  land,  startin'  ye 
wi'  a  tug  like  pooin'  your  teeth,  and  stoppin'  ye  wi'  a 
dunt-dunt  that  is  like  to  shake  the  verra  inside  oot  o' 
ye  !  Na,  there  was  but  a  pillion  set  across  a  guid  grey 
horse,  and  the  lad's  sturdy  waist  that  ye  likit  best,  and 
awa'  ye  set  as  canty  as  if  a'  the  warl'  was  but  yae 
graund  Rood  Fair  !  " 

"  Some  folk  had  nae  graund  young  man's  waist  to 
clip  their  airm  aboot,"  Megsy  would  rejoin,  as  she 
snipped  out  a  cover  for  the  next  jar  with  swift-running 
scissors.  "  Na,  mistress,  in  my  opeenion  the  railway 
is  no  only  a  great  convenience  but  an  offset  to  the 
country.  And  langsyne  some  had  neither  grey  horse 
nor  young  man  to  lippen  to  for  a  lift.  What  did  they 
do  ? " 

"Do,"  cried  her  mistress,  covering  the  under  surface 
80 


A     HOUSE     LEF7'     DESOLATE 

of  the  white  circle  with  whiskey  and  white  of  egg,  to 
keep  the  conserve  from  moulding,  "  what  did  they  do 
that  had  nae  horse,  say  ye  ?  Faith,  brawly  do  ye  ken 
what  they  did,  Marget  Tippcrlin.  I  mind  mysel'  mony 
a  day  seeing  ye  tripping  it  ower  the  heather  and  alang 
the  roads  that  shone  sae  green  across  the  muir,  bare-fit 
and  bare-leggit,  your  Sunday  coaties  kilted  to  the  knee, 
nane  thinking  ill  o't !  And  a  lad  carrying  your  single- 
soled  shune  that  ye  were  to  pit  on  when  ye  cam'  to  the 
burn  aneath  the  kirk-yaird  wa'  !  That 's  what  ye  did, 
Marget,  when  ye  had  never  a  horse  to  ride  on.  And  I 
leave  it  to  yersel',  Megsy,  to  say  if  ye  are  ony  mair 
happy  wi'  your  railways  and  eengines  and  trucks,  where 
fowk  are  penned  up  like  sheep  in  a  ree,  then  ye  were 
when  ye  legged  it  lichtfit  ower  the  heather  and  dabbled 
your  taes  in  the  Darroch  water  before  ye  drew  on  your 
stockin's,  wi'  a  gleg  young  lad  standin'  ready  to  buckle 
your  shoon  when  ye  had  dune  !  " 

*■'■  Aye,  ay&,  mistress,"  Megsy  would  take  up  the 
running,  "  that  as  may  be,  and  the  days  o'  yin's  youth 
wha  can  recall?  Him-up-yonder  (she  indicated  the 
Deity  with  a  large  and  reverent  gesture)  yince  on  a  time 
turned  back  the  shadow  ten  degrees  on  the  sun-dial  of 
Ahaz  for  the  sake  o'  guid  king  Hezekiah.  But  we 
dinna  read  that  He  ever  made  a  practice  o't !  Na,  na, 
mistress,  tak'  what  we  hae  and  mourn  not.  For  the 
days  o'  yin's  youth  wha  can  recall  ?  " 

The  last  phrase  was  an  ovcrword  to  Megsy,  and  with 
it  she  pointed  many  morals. 

For  all  that  the  Mistress  of  Arioland  cordially  hated 
going  even  to  the  neighbouring  town  of  Drumfcrn.  She 
put  the  evil  day  as  far  from  her  as  possible.  She  would 
go,  she  had  said  at  first,  "when  the  berry-time  was 
past,"  then  "  when  she  h:ni  made  the  :ipple  jelly, "  then 
C  8i 


A     HOUSE     LEFT     DESOLATE 

"when  a'  the  honey  was  strained  and  a'  the  libels  on 
the  jars." 

Meanwhile,  Hester  alternately  helped  and  played, 
happy  and  content  in  the  high  summer  days.  The  foot 
did  not  long  trouble  her,  healing,  as  all  sweet  child's 
flesh  will,  by  the  first  intention — thanks,  perhaps  most 
of  all  to  Carus  for  extracting  the  thorn  and  sucking  the 
wound  clean. 

She  played  sometimes  with  the  red  stone  buckle  her 
father  had  given  her.  She  liked  to  cover  it  up  among 
a  heap  of  pebbles  and  scatter  them  with  her  hand  till 
the  strange  eye  looked  through.  But  one  day  Megsy 
discovered  it  built  into  the  wall  of  a  square  enclosure 
of  rough  stones  in  which  Hester  had  been  playing 
"  house."  So  after  that  it  was  kept  in  Megsy's 
kist,  in  the  little  open  locker  at  the  top,  along  with 
certain,  curiously  musty  old  letters,  spools  of  coloured 
thread  Megsy's  Bible  (diamond  type,  bound  in  red 
leather,  none  other  of  any  authority)  and  the  thou- 
sand odds  and  ends  that  the  faithful  and  cross-grained 
servitor  of  Arioland  had  picked  up  during  her  long 
life. 

Then  there  arrived  a  black  day  to  that  house. 

Hester  came  flying  downstairs  one  morning  to  find 
Megsy  in  the  kitchen  emptying  out  the  tea-leaves  by  the 
side  of  the  old  well. 

"  Oh,  Megsy,  Megsy,  grandmother  will  not  speak  to 
me  this  morning!      Come  quick,  Megsy  !  " 

And  very  swiftly  and  with  a  fluttering  heart  Megsy 
went  and  found  her  mistress  turned  on  her  side,  and 
the  red  light  of  the  winter  sun  shining  full  upon  her. 
Her  eyes  were  open  and  her  colour  bright.  She 
seemed   about   to   speak,  and  from  the   gladness  on   her 

82 


A     HOUSE     LEFT     DESOLATE 

face    it    seemed    to    be   of   something   that    pleased    her 
well. 

"  Come  awa',  bairn,"  said  Marget,  "  all  is  weel  wi' 
the  mistress.  She  has  seen  the  Vision  !  But,  oh,  what 's 
to  come  o'  us  .''  " 


S3 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    MOURNING    OF    THE    TORPHICHANS 

AFTER  that  fell  the  days  of  darkness,  and  they 
were  many. 
For  the  Torphichans  filled  the  house.  Black 
silk  rustled,  hammers  tick-tacked,  and  the  whole  world 
seemed  swathed  in  crape.  Mrs.  Sylvanus  Torphichan 
in  especial,  being  next  of  kin  to  the  dead  and  chief 
mourner,  fairly  scraped  like  a  file.  She  intruded  her 
discontented,  peevish  face,  with  eyes  devoutly  upturned, 
and  mouth  pursed  to  indicate  emotion,  into  every  room 
in  the  house,  a  handkerchief  set  alternately  to  either 
eye,  and  her  whole  figure  radiating  grief  as  she  went. 

But  occasionally  she  would  turn  the  handle  of  the 
room  where  Dr.  Sylvanus  was  supposed  to  be  overcome 
by  his  emotions.  Here  she  would  pause  a  little,  with 
her  hand  on  the  brass  knob  before  opening  cautiously. 
Her  whole  attitude  suggested  a  resigned  sorrow,  anxious 
that  a  still  deeper  grief  should  not  be  disturbed. 

What  she  really  said  was,  "  Have  you  found  anything 
yet  ?  " 

And  as  soon  as  she  had  received  the  doctor's  low- 
spoken  negative  she  would  softly  close  the  door  again, 
and  resume  her  mournful  peregrinations. 

It  chanced  that  little  Hester,  who  in  those  days  found 
a  refuge  with  Megsy  below  stairs,  and  during  the  nights 
slept  in  Megsy's  room,  while  Tom  Torphichan  occupied 
her  little  white  chamber   under  the  eaves,  came  hastily 


MOURNING    OF     THE    TORPHICHANS 

along  on  a  message  tVom  iMegsy  to  the  store-cupboard 
in  the  parlour.  Her  light  tread  did  not  bring  the  crape- 
cumbered  sentinel  to  the  spot  in  time.  So  Hester  had  a 
glimpse  of  her  uncle  standing  b\-  the  table,  with  the  red- 
striped  bag  open  before  him.  He  had  his  back  toward 
her,  and  was  pouring  through  his  fingers  a  tinkling 
stream  of  red  stones  that  glittered  in  the  firelight. 
They  were  like  the  one  in  her  buckle — she  remembered 
that  long  after. 

The  next  moment  she  was  pulled  violently  away, 
shaken  as  a  terrier  shakes  a  rat,  and  pushed  along  the 
passage  by   her  aunt. 

"You  wretched  little  good-for-nothing  minx,"  she 
hissed,  "  what  do  \ou  mean  by  spying  and  prying  about 
this  house  ?  Get  downstairs  with  you  till  we  decide 
what  is  to  be  done  with  you.  You  are  nothing  but  a 
drag  on  respectable  people  —  as  your  father  was  before 
you.     Yes,  a  drag  and  a  disgrace." 

"You  shall  not  speak  against  my  father — he  was 
your  own  brother,  and  better  than  any  one  of  you  — 
kinder  too.  And  this  house  ought  to  be  his,  Megsy 
says   so  !  " 

With  a  farewell  cuff  Mrs.  Torphichan  was  about  to 
let  the  slim  little  figure  go.  But  she  lifted  up  her  hands 
at  the  desecration  of  Hester's  words. 

"She  must  be  taken  away  immediately;  I  will  not 
have  such  a  wicked  girl  in  the  house.  Ethel,  my  salts  ! 
Quick,  Ethel  !  " 

And  the  chief  mourner  staggered  to  a  chair. 

Thinking  that  her  aunt  was  really  ill,  Hester's  eager 
little  heart  was  touched  with  remorse,  and,  having  seen 
the  red  bottle  with  the  great  cut-glass  stopper  lying  on 
one  (jf  the  settles  in  the  hall,  she  ran  and  brought  it  to 
her  aunt. 

85 


MOURNING     OF     THE     TORPHICHANS 

That  afflicted  lady  had  sunk  back  into  an  easy-chair, 
and  now  lay  with  eyes  shut. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  was  rude,  aunt,"  said  Hester ;  "  please 
forgive  me  !      Here  is   the  smelling  bottle  !  " 

The  lady  kicked  out  her  heels  rigidly,  knocking  them 
on  the  floor  with  a  smart  rataplan. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  in  a  high  falsetto  shriek,  "  I  am 
going  to  be  taken,  I  know  I  am,  if  some  one  does  not 
send  that  dreadful  little  child  away.  This  very  moment 
she  flew  at  me  in  a  fury  —  the  ungrateful  asp,  the  snake 
I  warmed  in  my  bosom  !  Quick,  I  am  going  to  be  ill, 
I  know  it !     Ethel !     Ethel  !  " 

Now  when  Mrs.  Sylvanus  Torphichan  was  "  taken  " 
the  house  also  knew  it.  So  when  at  last  the  eldest 
daughter  came  at  her  call  she  began  to  run  as  soon  as 
she  heard  the  heels  of  her  mother's  shoes  tap-tapping  on 
the  wax-cloth. 

"  What  is  it,  mamma  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Do  stop  it  this 
instant  !     You  can  if  you  like  !  " 

The  afflicted  lady  could  only  point  venomously  at 
Hester,  who  still  stood  mutely  by  with  the  scent-bottle 
in  her  hand.  Ethel  snatched  it  from  her  and  gave  it  to 
her  mother.  Then  she  caught  Hester's  arm,  and  pushed 
her  towards  the  head  of  the  stairs  which  came  up  from 
the  kitchen,  scolding  her  all  the  time,  and  administering 
such  corrective  slaps  as  pleased  her  to  the  little  girl's 
cheeks  and  ears. 

''  Look  here,  you  get  away  !  Stay  in  the  coal-hole  or 
anywhere.  If  you  come  up  here  where  you  are  not 
wanted,  making  mamma  ill  and  upsetting  everybody  — 
there  that's  what  I  '11  do,  only  far  worse  !  " 

And  the  spiteful  Ethel  pinched  Hester's  arm  till  she 
gave  a  sharp  little  pitiful  cry  which  brought  Tom 
Torphichan  out  of  his  room  upon  the  scene.      He  had 

2,6 


MOURNING     OF     THE     TORPHICHANS 

something  alive  in  a  bag  under  his  arm,  something  that 
struggled  actively  to  escape.  He  was  holding  vv'hat  was 
apparently  the  nose  of  the  animal  inside  with  one  hand. 

"  Look  here,  Eth,"  he  said,  "  you  let  that  small  kid 
alone  !  I  'm  not  a  beast,  and  I  'm  not  going  to  let  you 
be,  if  you  are  older  than  me.      Now,  you   mind   me  !  " 

With  a  final  shove  of  disdain  Ethel  pushed  the  little 
girl  along  the  passage  and  turned  to  go  back  to  her 
mother. 

"  You  are  only  a  charity  child,  anyway,  if  Tom  does 
stick  up  for  you.  Aha,  Master  Tom,  I  heard  papa  say 
that  everv  penny  she  gets  will  come  off  you!  How  will 
you  like  that  ?  " 

"  Never  you  mind  how  I  shall  like  it.  I  shan't  come 
to  vou  for  pity.  Quiet,  Dick  !  Don't  you  touch  her, 
that  's  all,  or  I  '11  make  it  jolly  hot  for  you.  I  can,  you 
know —  oh,  beastly  hot  !  " 

Meanwhile,  Hester  was  quietly  crying,  for  Ethel  had 
hurt  her  arm  ver)'  much. 

"Look  here,  old  chap,"  said  Tom,  "  don't  whimp  — 
that  's  a  good  fellow.  Don't  you  mind  her.  It  will 
soon  be  better.  I  bet,  though,  Eth  pinched  you.  She's 
a  beast  for  that.  She  pinches  with  her  nails.  Let 's 
see  !  Yes,  that  's  just  like  Eth.  But  I  say,  we  '11  put 
a  rat  in  her  bedroom  to-night,  behind  the  door  of  her 
wardrobe.  I  've  got  a  lovely  one,  all  jump  and  teeth  ; 
oh,  mv  !  Then  when  she  opens  it  —  honjf !  Out  his 
ratship  will  hop!  And  then  won't  old  Eth  holler? 
Oh,  no!  Not  at  all  !  (Be  (juiet,  Dick,  there's  a  good 
dog.  Oh,  you  beast !  Be  quiet,  I  say,  or  the  inater 
will  hear  you,  and  then  you  can't  go  ratting.)  I  say, 
Hester  —  is  n't  your  name  Hester  ?  Rummy  name 
that.  Come  down  to  the  barn.  Vic  is  there,  and  Kip 
MacKinstrcy  has  four  lov-v-v-ly  rats  in  a  cage.      VVc  are 

S7 


MOURNING     OF     THE     TORPHICHANS 

just  going  to  set  Dick  on  to  them.  I  've  been  keeping 
him  hungry  in  my  room  on  purpose,  till  he 's  just 
whoppin'  mad.  Come  on  and  see  him  scat'  'em  !  It 's 
a  blessed  swot  having  to  be  down  here  anyway,  while 
the  old  man  hunts  up  what  every  one  is  to  get.  You 
don't  want  to  come,  eh  ?  Well,  not  many  girls  are 
such  trumps  about  ratting  as  Vic.  But  you  '11  do.  I 
say,  I  'm  sorry  about  being  such  a  beast  last  summer. 
That 's  all  right.      Well,  so  long,   Hester  !  " 

And  Tom  was  gone,  stealing  out  on  tip-toe  by  the 
kitchen  stairs,  then  making  a  dart  for  it,  and  scuttling 
through  the  thickest  of  the  shrubbery  for  the  shelter  of 
the  barn  where  Vic  awaited  him  with  the  faithful  "  Play- 
the-Kip,"  *  or  as  he  was  generally  designated  more 
simply  "  Kip  "  Kinstrey,  while  at  last  Hester  forgot  her 
troubles  with  her  head  on  the  faithful  breast  of  Megsy 
Tipperlin. 

It  may  be  as  well  (though  it  is  to  some  extent 
anticipating),  in  order  to  show  that  sometimes  Nemesis 
works  by  humble  if  very  immediate  agencies,  to  record 
what  befell  Miss  Ethel  Torphichan  that  very  night. 
Claudia,  who  was  her  elder  sister's  slave,  had  departed 
after  looking  out  all  her  "  things  "  for  the  great  day  of 
the  funeral,  brushing  dresses,  and  being  scolded  for  her 
clumsiness  all  the  time.  Then  with  brush  in  hand 
Ethel  Torphichan  tried  a  few  poses,  to  see  how  her  hair 
would  look  done  this  way  and  that,  now  low  on  her 
neck,  then  on  the  top  of  her  head  —  the  effect  of  the 
latter  being  slightly  marred  by  the  holding  two  hair- 
pins in  her  mouth.     Next  she  really  must  try  that  pale 

*  Play-the-Kip :  i.e.,  truant.  Kip's  achievements  in  that  line, 
if  they  had  lost  him  a  Christian  name,  had  earned  him  fame  and 
great  glory  among  the  boys  of  two  parishes. 

88 


MOURNING     OF     THE    TORPHICHANS 

blue  ncckerchiet  she  had  bought  before  leaving  town. 
Such  a  pity  that  now  she  could  not  wear  it  tor  ever  so 
long!  Where  was  it?  Oh,  in  the  wardrobe,  she 
remembered 

Shriek  on  shriek  pealed  through  the  silent  house,  for 
it  had  grown  late  with  all  this  rehearsing.  Hester 
heard  far  away  up  under  the  eaves,  and  being  frightened 
at  the  thought  of  her  grandmother  lying  so  still,  she 
stretched  up  a  hand  from  the  little  truckle  bed  where 
she  lay  to  feel  for  Megsy.  Tom  in  the  chamber  that 
had  been  Hester's  under  the  easterly  slates,  also  heard, 
and  fairly  hugged  himself  with  delight.  He  sat  up  on 
his  elbow  to  listen. 

"  He  was  a  nice  lively  one  !  "  he  said  to  himself. 
'■'■  It  was  something  like  unselfishness,  but  Thomas 
Torphichan  is  n't  going  to  be  mean  in  a  little  thing  like 
that.      I   saved  the   pick  of  the  bunch   for  Ethel!" 

And  so  it  proved.  The  rat  rushed  about  the  room, 
and  tried  to  climb  the  curtains  of  the  bed.  It  went 
under  the  bed  and  out  again  at  the  other  side  so  quickly 
that  it  seemed  to  Ethel  as  she  stood  on  a  chair,  that 
there  must  be  a  complete  living  chain  of  wild  rats  with 
gleaming  teeth  flying  round  the  room  at  a  speed  of  at 
least  fifty  miles  an  hour. 

Then  presently  at  the  door  holding  a  candle  in  his 
hand,  and  exceedingly  short  in  the  temper  at  being  dis- 
turbed, stood  Dr.  Sylvanus  Torphichan. 

"  Ethel,  what  is  the  matter  that  you  disturb  the  house 
of  mourning  with  such  unseemly  noises  .''  Hold  your 
tongue,  girl  !  " 

"  The  rat  —  the  horrid  rat !  It  flew  at  me  —  oh,  I  shall 
die  !    I  know  I  shall  !  " 

"  I  see  no  rat !  You  have  been  dreaming  !  I  know 
you  have  !  "  said  the  Doctor.      "  Oh,  I  have  some  medi- 


MOURNING     OF     THE     TORPHICHANS 

cine  in  my  trunk.  What  have  you  been  having  for 
supper  ?  Have  you  been  eating  anything  in  your 
room  ?  " 

"  But  I  saw  it,  papa  !  No,  I  shan't  come  down  till  it 
is  killed.  Do  look  under  the  bed,  papa !  I  shall  not 
sleep  a  wink  if  you  don't.  Oh,  it  was  all  that  horrid 
little  wretch,  Hester  Stirling,  and  Tom,  who  took  her 
side.  I  know  it  was  Tom.  He  said  he  would  serve  me 
out !  " 

"  Nonsense — nonsense  !  Come  down  at  once,  or  I  will 
make  you  !  Do  you  hear  ?  I  tell  you  I  have  looked 
everywhere,  and  there  is  no  rat.  There  never  was  a 
rat !  " 

Dr.  Sylvanus  was  very  angry.  He  had  placed  him- 
self, attired  in  the  garb  of  night,  in  several  postures 
unbecoming  to  a  physician  in  a  large  and  high-class 
practice.  His  temper  as  well  as  his  hair  was  ruffled  by 
poking  under  the  bed,  and  discovering  only  paper-covered 
boxes  of  linen  and  "  keps."  What  he  affirmed  was  also 
true.  There  was  no  rat,  for  that  astute  animal  had 
bolted  past  him  at  the  first  opening  of  the  door,  while 
the  Doctor  stood  petrified  by  the  sight  of  his  eldest 
daughter  with  her  skirts  clutched  about  her  ankles, 
screaming  on  the  highest  chair  in  the  room. 

But  as  the  Doctor  returned  to  his  chamber  to  quiet 
his  wife's  apprehensions  a  sudden  thought  struck  him 
to  take  a  look  into  Tom's  room.  But  if  ever  there  was 
a  boy  asleep  —  soundly  and  innocently  asleep  —  it  was 
Thomas  Alistair  Torphichan.  The  girl  had  certainly 
been  dreaming.  Of  that  there  was  no  doubt.  The 
medicine  —  yes,  he  had  forgotten.  She  must  have  been 
stuffing  some  rubbish  privately.      Girls  always  did. 

"  I  will  administer  a  little  bromide  of  potassium. 
And  —  ahem  —  add  a  few  drops  of  another  drug,  innocu- 

90 


MOURNING     OF     THE     TORPHICHANS 

ous  but  unpleasant  to  the  palate.      It  will   teach  her  not 
to  do  it  again  !  " 

The  veil  may  safely  be  drawn  in  this  place.  Ethel 
hated  nasty  medicine  worse  than  poor  relations,  and  she 
emerged  from  the  trial  more  than  ever  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  the  verse  which  says  that  a  man's  foes  are  those 
of  his  own  house. 


CHAPTER   XII 

DR.    SYLVANUS    DANCES    A    BREAKDOWN 

DR.  SYLVANUS  had  prospered  in  his  search 
beyond  belief  or  expectation.  He  had  found 
his  mother-in-law's  keys  in  her  black  reticule 
basket,  just  where  his  wife  told  him  to  look  for  them. 
Armed  with  these  he  went  systematically  about  his  task, 
quartering  the  ground  and  searching  every  likely  and 
unlikely  place  for  papers  and  for  the  innocent  little  hoards 
which  Mistress  Stirling  had  been  in  the  habit  of  making, 
and  then  forthwith  forgetting  all  about. 

So  that  when  for  the  fourth  time  his  wife  came  quietly 
to  the  guarded  door  with  her  question  he  was  able  to 
reply  in  the  same  low  tone.  "  All  is  left  to  us  except 
a  legacy  of  ^2,000  to  little  Hester  Stirling  on  her 
twenty-first  birthday,  and  an  annuity  of  twenty-five 
pounds  a  year  to  Margaret  Tipperlin  in  recognition  of 
her  long  service  —  not  unreasonable    I  must  say  !  " 

But  the  chief  mourner  stamped  her  foot  in  a  fury  of 
anger. 

"  Two  thousand  pounds  to  a  beggar's  brat,  whom  my 
mother  kept  out  of  a  foolish  charity  all  these  years  !  I 
declare  I  will  not  submit  to  it.  I  will  take  it  before  the 
courts  !  " 

"Gently,  gently,  Sarah,"  said  her  husband;  "there 
is  over  twenty  thousand  in  stocks  and  securities,  every 
penny  of  which  your  mother  might  have  left  past  us 
and  our  dear  children.  Things  are  very  well  as  they 
are.      It  is  not   for  us  to  stir  up  any  questions  !  " 

92 


DR.  SYLVANUS    DANCES  A   BREAKDOWN 

And  indeed  he  had  good  reason  to  be  content.  For 
he  had  found  something  which  made  all  other  items  of 
little  account  —  even  the  twenty  thousand  pounds  in 
stocks.  For  after  glancing  casually  into  the  store  cup- 
board in  the  parlour,  thrusting  his  linger  into  the  pots 
of  preserves  in  search  of  concealed  bank-notes,  and 
weighing  the  dripped-honey  jars  in  his  palm  for  hoarded 
sovereigns,  he  had  spied  the  bag  with  the  red  stripes 
pushed  well  to  the  back.  He  tried  casually  to  lift  it 
over  the  white  jampots  by  the  leathern  handle,  but  it 
proved  unexpectedly  heavy.  So  he  cleared  a  way  to 
slide  it  to  the  front,  and  as  he  lifted  it  down  to  the  table 
it  rattled  with  a  curious  tinkle  which  his  trained  ear  told 
him  was  not  metallic.  A  key  found  in  his  mother-in- 
law's  purse  opened  the  bag.  Sylvanus  gasped,  and  saw 
the  day  of  his  retirement  to  a  country  estate  immediately 
before  him.  It  had  been  the  dream  of  his  life,  and  here 
it  was. 

But  a  slip  of  paper  lying  on  the  top  caught  his  atten- 
tion. It  was  blue  and  oblong,  and  the  writing  upon  it 
was  in  Mrs.  Stirling's  well-known  small  Italian  hand. 

"  These  precious  stones  were  given  me  this  2nd  of  August^ 
1 8  —  bs  my  dear  son^  David  IValdron  Stirling^  in  trust  for 
his  little  daughter  Hester  Sybilla  Stirling^  before  his  return 
to  Burmah"  —  IsoBEL  Stirling. 

Sylvanus  Torphichan  had  hitherto  been  a  man  neither 
conspicuouslv  honourable  nor  yet  consciously  dishonest. 
No  great  temptation  had  ever  come  his  way,  and  in  all 
money  matters  he  had,  on  the  whole,  acquitted  himself 
to  his  own  satisfaction.  But  this  great  testing  of  what 
manner  of  man  underlay  the  smooth  exterior  and  the 
bedside  manner  sprang  upon  him  like  a  lion  out  oi  a 
bush   in   that    little  familiar  parlour  where   in   other  days 

93 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

he  had  courted  his  wife.  He  was  already  considering 
the  possibilities  when  he  heard  the  slam  of  the  door  as 
his  wife  caught  Hester  in  the  act  of  watching  him. 
Sylvanus  started  with  a  quick  strong  shudder  and  shut 
up  the  bag  again.  He  must  not  tell  his  wife.  If  these 
jewels  had  to  be  given  up  to  the  little  girl,  the  less  his 
wife  knew  of  the  matter  the  better  it  would  be  for  the 
peace  of  all  within  the  household  of  Dr.  Torphichan. 

"  In  the  other  event "  ( Sylvanus  put  it  thus  to 
himself)  "  well,  he  must  have  a  free  hand  to  make  his 
dispositions  without  criticism  or  cavil.  No;  very  de- 
cidedly it  would  never  do  to  tell  Mrs.  Torphichan." 

So  he  pulled  out  the  sideboard  and  pushed  the  bag 
into  a  recess  at  the  back,  between  the  panel  and  the 
skirting-board,  where  it  would  remain  safely  enough, 
till  night  and  sleep  would  leave  him  at  liberty  still 
better  to  dispose  of  it. 

Next,  drawing  a  chair  before  the  fire,  for  the  sudden 
excitement  had  sent  the  blood  to  his  head  and  his  feet 
were  cold,  he  began  to  consider  his  difficulties.  What 
was  there  to  prove  that  the  rubies  belonged  to  his  little 
niece?  For  the  present,  only  this  scrap  of  paper  in  his 
hand.  It  was  most  unlikely  that  the  girl  herself  knew 
anything,  or  that  Mrs.  Stirling  had  mentioned  the  fact 
of  the  trust  to  her  servant.  The  date  was  very  recent, 
and  if  she  had  done  so,  Megsy  would  certainly  have 
insisted  upon  a  more  secure  place  of  bestowal  for  so 
much  treasure.  No,  the  secret  so  far  as  this  country 
was  concerned  had  died  with  the  dead  woman  in  the 
great  bedroom  upstairs. 

And  the  blue  paper?  He  flipped  it  a  moment 
thoughtfully  between  his  finger  and  thumb.  Then,  as 
calmly  as  if  burning  a  prescription  which  had  served 
its    turn,    Sylvanus    Torphichan     leaned     forward,    and 

94 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

threw  it  upon  the  fire,  watching  it  flame  up  and  then 
die  down  into  a  black  and  curdled  scroll  in  which  a  tew 
sparks  of  fire  wandered  like  so  many  live  things. 

But,  he  must  not  forget,  there  was  David  Stirling, 
the  outcast,  the  disinherited — now  clearly,  by  fraud  or 
honest  gain,  a  rich  man — probably  a  very  rich  man, 
certainly  a  very  able  and  unscrupulous  one.  Yet  it  was 
not  likely  that  even  he  had  taken  any  receipt  from  his 
mother  for  the  bag  of  jewels  left  in  her  possession,  or 
if  for  the  bag,  certainly  not  for  these  hundreds  of  in- 
dividual stones  !  Moreover,  the  man  had  gone  back  to 
Burmah.  That  was  a  country  in  a  state  of  constant 
unrest  —  foreigners  massacred,  the  king  a  debauchee, 
the  queen  a  bloodthirsty  monster.  It  was  more  than 
doubtful  if  the  man  would  ever  come  back.  Or  if  he 
did,  would  he  be  able  to  prove  his  right  ?  Why  not  a 
gift  to  his  mother  ?  And  if  so,  clearly  Dr.  Sylvanus's 
own,  or  at  least  his  wife's,  as  residuary  legatee. 

Thus  arguing.  Dr.  Torphichan  rose  and  paced  the 
floor,  looking  again  and  again  at  the  sideboard  behind 
which  he  had  hidden  the  striped  bag.  He  knew  little 
of  precious  stones,  yet  there  was  enough  there,  he 
calculated,  whatever  the  value  of  particular  rubies 
might  be,  to  purchase  a  very  considerable  "  stake  in  the 
country,"  as  it  was  called.  For  that  was  the  one  bait 
which  Svlvanus  could  not  resist.  It  appealed  to  every 
fibre  of  his  large,  coarse,  naturally  fawning,  outwardly 
pompous  self. 

"The  girl?  She  would  be  better  without  them! 
He  would  take  care  that  she  did  not  suffer  1  " 

At  this  point  his  wife  came  in.  Sylvanus  cast  one 
glance  at  the  massive  sideboard,  to  make  sure  that  his 
secret  was  safe.  He  felt  as  if  a  murdered  body  were 
behind  that  solid   mahogany,  instead  of  a  harmless  bag 

95 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

covered  with  patent  leather.  The  huge  piece  of  fur- 
niture seemed  to  him  slightly  awry.  He  wished  that  he 
could  get  up  on  the  spot  and  set  it  straight. 

"Sylvanus,"  began  his  wife,  "there  are  two  things 
I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about.  That  two  thousand 
pounds  troubles  me.  It  seems  so  useless  a  waste ! 
Can  the  bequest  not  be  proved  to  be  against  my 
father's  express  wish  ?  He  disinherited  David,  and 
that  surely  includes  his  daughter  ?  There  is  manifest 
justice  in  that  ?  " 

Sylvanus  shook  his  head  smilingly,  as  he  did  at  an 
impossible  request  from  a  rich  patient. 

"  Sarah,"  he  said,  "  your  father  left  the  land  and 
houses  to  you  —  only  life-renting  them  to  your  mother. 
But  he  devised  all  his  stocks  and  securities,  with  such 
moneys  as  he  died  possessed  of,  to  his  wife  without  any 
condition.  You  know  it,  for  you  have  seen  the  will  as 
often  as  I  have  !  " 

"  But  the  rights  of  it,  Sylvanus,"  said  his  wife, 
pressing  the  point  with  the  fretful  pertinacity  of  a 
weak  woman,  "  surely  the  judges  of  the  land  would  not 
refuse  to  do  what  is  right." 

"  Be  content,  Sarah,"  said  her  husband,  soothingly, 
"  no  doubt  it  is  distressing.  But  it  only  shows  how 
Providence  ordains  His  people  many  trials  in  this  life! 
But  there  are  compensations  —  oh,  yes,  there  are 
compensations !  " 

He  looked  casually  at  the  sideboard.  It  seemed  more 
awry  than  ever.  Then  he  recollected  himself.  That 
particular  consolation  he  must  keep  to  himself,  if  he 
were  to  profit  by  it  fully. 

"  I  don't  see  any  consolation  in  having  two  thousand 
pounds  left  away  from  one  of  the  poor  dear  innocent 
lambs.     You  know  they  will  need  it  all,  for  Tom  is  so 

96 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

careless  and  dear  Ethel  so  extravagant  in  dress.  Of 
course  she  is  pretty,  but  Claudia  has  a  temper,  and   Vic 

—  well,  Vic   is   hopeless  !  " 

Dr.  Sylvanus  went  on :  "  Speaking  of  consolation, 
Sarah,  there  is  consolation  in  the  fact  that  you  and  I 
are  the  trustees,  and  that  we  do  not  need  to  pay  over 
the  money  till  Hester  Stirling  is  twenty-one  years  of 
age.  Much  may  happen  before  then  !  Ah,  here  is 
the  post-bag  —  mostly  for  me,  of  course!  But  one 
letter  for  you,  my  dear  !  No,  it  is  for  Ethel ;  it  looks 
like  a  love-letter.  That  young  lady  must  surely  have 
begun  early.  You  will  have  to  look  after  her,  Sarah  ; 
we  cannot  be  too  careful  in  the  choice  of  companions  for 
three  such  girls  !  Would  you  like  to  see  The  Thistle^ 
dearest  ?  It  is  yesterday's  paper,  of  course.  But  what 
can  you  expect  up  here  in  these  wilds  ?  " 

Dr.  Sylvanus  began  to  read  his  correspondence, 
mumbling  a  stray  word  here  and  there,  as  many  doctors 
do  when  they  read  letters,  mingling  his  speech  with  the 
low  professional  *'  Ah  !  "  of  the  consulting  room,  some- 
thing after  this  fashion  : 

"  From  Rogers  —  ah  !     Old  Mr.  Riach  very  obstinate 

—  says  he  will  not  pay  you  for  sending  an  apothecary's 
apprentice  to  see  him.  (I  must  see  Riach  to-morrow 
night  or  early  next  morning.  No,  hang  Riach,  if  these 
rubies  are  all  right,  what  does  it  matter  whether  I  see 
Riach   or   not?)" 

"  My  dear,"  cried  his  wife,  suddenly,  "  have  you  read 
this  ?      It  is  about  David,  about  my  brother  !  " 

"What  —  what  —  what  is  it?"  cried  her  husband, 
letting  fall  the  letter  he  was  reading,  and  starting  so 
violently  to  his  feet  that  he  upset  a  writing  table 
with  all  its  ink  bottles  nnd  accoutrements  upon  the 
floor. 

7  97 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

His  wife  looked  curiously  at  his  suddenly  whitened 
face. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  cared  one  way  or  the  other 
about  David,"  she  said. 

"  I  do  !  "  said  Sylvanus,  with  strong  feeling.  "•  I 
care  very   much." 

His  wife  put  out  her  hand  admiringly. 

"  You  are  a  kind-hearted  man,  Sylvanus.  But  do  not 
let  the  feeling  cause  you  to  be  unjust  to  your  own  flesh 
and  blood." 

"  I  will  not.  There  is  no  fear  of  that !  "  he  replied, 
with  perfect  truth. 

Then  his  wife  gave  Dr.  Torphichan  the  paper  for 
which  he  had  been  reaching  out  his  hand  as  he  spoke. 
He  read  this  paragraph  first  with  a  single  eye-shot,  and 
then  more  carefully. 

MURDER    OF   ANOTHER    ENGLISHMAN   IN 
BURMAH 

A  despatch  of  yesterday  from  Rangoon  states  that  an  English- 
man named  David  Waldron  Stirling,  or  Sterling,  had  been 
executed  at  Mandalay  in  the  last  holocaust  of  vicdms,  of  which 
details  are  just  to  hand.  He  had  but  recently  returned  to  that 
country  after  a  visit  home.  It  is  reported  that  Mr.  Stirling 
had  discovered  a  new  and  very  rich  ruby  mine  in  unexplored 
territory  to  the  north-west,  and  that  he  was  murdered  in  order 
that  the  Queen  might  take  possession  of  this  rich  find.  Mr. 
Stirling  is  believed  to  have  had  two  white  companions,  but  as  to 
their  fate  nothing  is  yet  known.  Mr.  Stirling,  it  is  said,  was 
respectably  connected,  and  was  a  man  of  great  enterprise  and 
ability. 

When  he  had  finished  reading  Sylvanus  rested  his 
head  on  his  hand  and  covered  his  eyes.  He  did  not 
wish  to  let  his  wife  see  the  greatness  of  his  relief.     She 

98 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

came  o\  er  to  him,  however,  and  laid  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  If  I  do  not  grieve  for  my  own  brother  I  do  not  see 
why  you  should,  Sylvanus  !  But  you  were  always  so 
soft-hearted.  And  I  think  mother's  death  has  made  us 
all  a  little  hysterical.  I  suppose  now  we  shall  have  to 
put  that  chit  into  mourning  ?  What,  are  you  going  out, 
Sylvanus?  Don't  you  feel  well?  You  are  pale.  Can 
I  get  you  anything?  " 

But  Sylvanus  hurried  down  the  stairs  without  answer- 
ing. He  felt  that  if  he  did  not  laugh  or  weep,  he  would 
burst.  So  he  went  through  the  plantations  towards  the 
Darroch  woods,  and  as  soon  as  he  reached  a  quiet  spot 
he  flung  himself  down  on  the  pine  needles  and  laughed 
aloud. 

"Now  at  last  I  have  it,"  he  said;  "no  one  can  touch 
me.  1  was  born  poor  and  I  worked  my  way,  but  I 
thought  it  would  never  come.  Now  I  shall  buy  half 
the  county.  ^  I  shall  stand  for  Parliament.  I  may  get 
a  peerage.  Lord  Arioland  —  that  is  a  good  name,  and  to 
think  that  I  once  stood  behind  an  apothecary's  counter  — 
on  Sundays,  too  !  Lord,  how  well  I  remember  it !  *  A 
pennyworth  o'  brandy-balls!'  'A  ha'penny  worth  o' 
lemon  kali  ! '  Bah,  it  is  within  my  grasp  at  last !  And 
the  lemon  kali  gives  a  flavour  to  it  !  " 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  and,  more  in  the  manner  of  the 
youngest  apothecary's  apprentice  when  he  finishes  putting 
up  the  shutters  than  in  that  of  a  peer-prospective  of  the 
realm,  Svlvanus  danced  a  breakdown  on  the  springy  turf 
of  the  pine  wood. 

From  behind  a  great  tree  trunk  two  sharp  pairs  of 
eyes  watched   him. 

"My  wig,  Vic,"  whispered  Tom,  anxiously,  "the 
gov'nor 's  gone  cracky!      Say,  what   has  the  old   fellow 

99 


DR.  SYLVANUS  DANCES  A  BREAKDOWN 

been  havin'  ?  I  always  thought  he  kept  something 
besides  jalap  in  that  whopping  medicine  trunk  of  his  ! 
Trust  Silvy  for  being  a  downy  one  !  " 

"  Tom,"  said  Vic,  with  sudden  piety,  "  remember  the 
Fifth   Commandment." 

"  I  don't  know  which  is  the  Fifth  Commandment. 
But  if  it  tells  you  not  to  laugh  when  you  see  your 
father  behaving  like  a  monkey  climbing  on  a  yellow 
stick  —  well,  Tom  Torphichan  ain't  going  to  worry 
about  any   Fifth   Commandment !  " 

And  with  that  the  dutiful  children  betook  them  deeper 
into  the  wood,  while  their  father  sat  down  to  arrange  in 
what  manner  he  was  to  carve  out  his  way  to  a  seat  in 
the  hereditary  chamber  of  Her  Majesty's  Legislature. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

MEGSY  TIPPERLIN   BEARDS  THE  LION  IN   HIS  DEN 

OX  the  morning  of  the  funeral  the  only  two  real 
mourners  in  the  Great  House  of  Arioland  waked 
early.  Hester  lay  in  her  little  trundle  bed  beside 
Megsy's  larger  one,  in  the  garret  where  the  dormer 
window  stuck  a  peaked  forehead  through  the  roof.  This 
looked  out,  Dutch  fashion,  on  tree  tops,  in  which  the 
rooks  were  already  cawing  and  making  their  morning 
toilet.  Megsv  Tipperlin  was  explaining  the  mysteries 
of  Providence  to  a  small  and  very  puzzled  inquirer,  as 
best  she  could. 

"You  see,",  said  Megsy,  "it's  this  way.  Ye  mind 
when  ve  asked  Her-that  's-awa'  for  her  shears  and 
needle-case.  And  to  quiet  ye  she  gied  ye  them.  Then, 
in  five  minutes  ye  had  cuttit  your  finger  and  stickit  a 
needle  intil  your  leg  and  gotten  a  cufF  on  the  lug  for 
slittin'  the  linin'  o'  a  chair!  That's  juist  exactly  like 
Providence!  We  want  something  as  sair  as  ye  wanted 
vour  granny's  auld  workbasket,  an*  if  we  get  it,  nine 
times  oot  o'  ten  we  are  juist  cuttit  an'  jaggit  an'  cuffit 
for  our  pains   till  we  roar  !  " 

"Aye,  Megsy,"  objected  Hester,  "  but  that's  asking 
for  a  thing  you  want,  (grandmother's  dying  was  taking 
away  a  thing  that  I  had  already  and  wanted  to  keep  !  " 

"  An'  that 's  only  anither  way  o't,  bairnie,"  said  Megsy, 
still  holding  the  child's  hand  in  hers  over  the  edge  of  the 
bedstead   from  which   she  had   not  yet   risen.      "  Did   ye 

lOI 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

never  hear  a  lammie  that  had  been  speaned  frae  its 
mither  maa-in  as  if  its  very  heart  vv^ad  break  ?  But  the 
herd  juist  drives  an'  drives  an'  aye  the  louder  is  the 
lammie's  maa-in  .  Does  the  herd  no  care  ?  Aye,  he 
cares.  His  heart  is  wae  —  that  is,  if  he  be  a  true  herd 
and  nae  hireling.  But  he  disna  stop  for  that.  The 
lammies  maun  learn  to  gang  their  lane.  They  maun 
drink  nae  mair  their  mither's  milk.  They  maun  put 
awa'  childish  things,  and  learn  to  seek  for  themsel's  the 
wat  clover  o'  the  meadow,  and  the  sweet  young  grass 
that  grows  in  the  lirks  o'  the  heather  when  the  dew  is 
still  upon  it." 

"  And  is  that  what  he  took  awa'  my  granny  for  ?  " 
said  Hester,  after  a  long  pause,  during  which  she  had 
watched  the  grey  wispy  cloudlets  high  up  through  the 
garret  window  tinged  with  the  faintest  rose  of  dawn. 

"I  doot  it  na,"  said  Megsy,  in  cautious  affirmative; 
"  forbye,  she  is  happier  where  she  is  !  " 

"  But  she  was  happy  here,  too  !  "  returned  the  voice 
from  the  truckle-bed  beneath,  putting  her  finger  on  the 
weak  place  of  Megsy's  argument  with  the  ruthless  fidelity 
of  childhood. 

For  a  moment  Megsy  was  nonplussed,  as  many  more 
learned  have  been,  by  the  dealings  and  judgments  of  the 
Court  of  Final  Appeal.      But  she  quickly  rallied. 

"  Aye,  Hester  Sybilla,"  confessed  Megsy,  "  that  is 
what  I  thocht  mysel',  in  my  haste  and  in  my  blindness. 
Said  I  to  mysel',  she  wad  hae  wushed  to  hae  seen  how  the 
new  grosart  bushes  throve  in  the  hollow  o'  the  orchard, 
and  what  like  were  the  young  beds  of  strawberries  next 
year.  For  she  chose  the  runners  hersel'  !  And  what 
sort  o'  brew  the  elderfloo'er  wine  turned  oot  to  be,  and 
if  the  chuckie  hens  laid  weel  through  the  winter  !  For 
her  heart  was  aye  set  on  thae  things.     And  she  wanted 

1 02 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

sair  to  see  ye  a  big  braw  lass  \vi'  a  hame  o'  your  ain  and 
douce  guidman  !  " 

"  I  did  not  want  ever  to  be  married,  Megsy," 
said  the  little  girl,  ''but  only  to  be  with  you  and 
grandmother  !  " 

"  I  daresay  no  the  noo,  bairnie ;  "  the  voice  from  the 
higher  bed  was  breathing  out  graciously  the  wisdom  and 
the  power  of  God.  (You  would  never  have  thought  it 
in  the  daytime,  to  look  at  Megsy's  grim  face  with  the 
mouth  set,  and  the  clear  irascible  eyes  of  the  woman 
who  had  made  a  life  for  herself  apart,  and  so  seen  the 
matter  through.)  "  I  daresay  no.  The  lamb  doesna 
want  to  leave  its  minnie.  It  wad  like  to  rin  by  her  side 
up  the  hill  and  doon  the  brae,  by  burnside  and  clint  and 
scaur.  But  that  canna  be.  It  wad  be  guid  for  neither 
ewe  nor  yet  for  lamb.  And  sae  ye  maun  learn  to  gang 
oot  in  the  vvarl',  my  wee  lammie,  a'  your  lane.  For  on 
every  hillside  there  is  heard  the  bleatin'  o'  the  speaned 
lambs,  and  by  every  fireside  the  sab  o'  the  mourner 
mournin'  for  them  that   never  shall   return!" 

It  was  Megsv's  poetry — or  her  religion,  which  you 
will  !  tor  the  deepest  kind  of  religion  is  just  poetry, 
even  as  the  best  poetry  is  religion.  Whatever  keeps  a 
man's  nature  soft  is  religion,  and  these  were  the  thoughts 
that  had  kept  the  kernel  of  Megsy's  heart  rich  and 
loving  and  soft  within  the  tough  husk  and  horny  shell  of 
her  outer  life. 

Hester  thought  for  a  little,  and  then  determined  to 
ask  the  (juestion  which,  of  all  others,  was  most  import- 
ant to  her  now.  She  had  not  dared  to  put  the  terrible 
•thought  into  words  hitherto. 

"  Will  I  have  to  go  with  thf:m  ?  " 

There  was  a  whole  world  of  pain,  and  fear,  and 
aversion    in  the  accentuation  of  the  final  pronoun.      Yet 

103 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

there  was  also  the  beating  of  a  brave  little  heart,  and 
the  application  of  Megsy's  sermon  in  the  courage 
which  was  enabling  Hester  to  dare  even  that  terrible 
possibility. 

Megsy's  voice  trembled  as  she  answered.  She 
realised  well  what  it  meant  to  the  child,  and  she 
crushed  down  what  it  would   mean  to  herself. 

"  Dootless  they  hae  the  richt  to  tak'  ye  wi'  them," 
she  said.  "  Oh,  I  wad  never  deny  that !  But  will 
they  ?  The  Lord  can  put  even  into  their  hearts  the 
thing  He  will — yes,  even  in  theit'  hearts  "(Dr.  Sylvanus 
and  his  wife,  eminent  lights  in  a  dark  and  sinful  world, 
would  have  been  surprised  at  the  "  even"  ).  "  And  we 
maun  juist  submit,  you  and  me,  Hester.  This  day  will 
declare  it." 

"  Suppose  that  we  say  a  prayer,  Megsy  ?  " 

"  It  wad  do  no  hairm,  lassie  !  " 

Hester  was  out  of  bed  in  a  minute  and  kneeling  by 
a  chair. 

"  Will  you  not  rise  and  pray  too,  Megsy  ?  " 

"  I  will  pray,  bairnie,  but  I  will  not  rise !  " 

For  in  her  heart  Megsy  was  shy  and  reticent  even 
with  her  Maker.  And  it  seemed  a  thing  too  presump- 
tuous that  she  should  call  the  Almighty's  attention  by 
such  a  signal.  In  a  servant's  bedroom  when  she  was  a 
young  girl  (during  the  religious  excitement  which 
preceded  the  Disruption)  she  had  been  known  as  "  Meg 
the  Heathen,"  or  shortly  "  Heathenie,"  because  she  alone 
did  not  say  her  prayers  at  her  kist-lid  before  she  went 
to  bed.  And  yet  that  same  Meg  the  Heathen  would 
have  let  herself  be  torn  to  pieces  before  she  would  •• 
have  owned  to  those  who  taunted  her  that  she  often  hid 
in  the  peathouse,  in  order  that  she  might  say  them 
where  none  but  One  could  see  or  hear. 

104 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

So  there  and  then  the  erstwhile  Heathenie  and  the 
little  maid  prayed  their  prayers. 

The  funeral  was  over  at  last,  the  dead  woman  laid  in 
her  quiet  resting-grave  in  the  little  sheltered  kirk-yard 
beneath  the  Clachan  Kirk,  where,  if  they  can  listen, 
the  Folk  of  the  Long  Rest  may  hear  for  ever  and  ever 
the  sough  of  the  Darroch  water  running  soft  over  its 
pebbles  and  the  dry  rustle  as  the  yew-twigs  talk 
together  overhead. 

Dr.  Sylvanus  Torphichan,  that  eminent  Christian, 
had  been  more  than  usually  eminent  that  day.  At  the 
head  of  the  grave  he  had  stood  bareheaded,  majestic, 
the  observed  of  all.  He  had  even  patronised  the 
minister,  the  Reverend  Anthony  Borrowman  of  the 
parish  of  St.  John's,  till  that  shrewd  cleric  had  given 
Sylvanus  one  single  glance,  a  regard  dry  and  east-windy 
enough  to  shrivel  up  his  reasonable  soul  within  him. 

Failing  witii  the  minister  he  had  next  patronised 
the  local  undertaker.  Even  at  the  grave-head,  and 
with  the  lowering  cord  in  his  hand,  Sylvanus  had 
instructed  the  grave-digger,  a  thing  which  none  had  ever 
done  before  and  lived  to  tell  the  tale.  With  his  hat  in 
his  hand  and  in  the  full  consciousness  of  the  impressive 
figure  he  made,  he  patronised  God  —  a  feat  which  is 
more  common  than  many  suppose. 

As  he  stood  there  he  was  thinking  of  what  his  wife 
had  proposed,  that  in  view  of  the  acquisition  of  the 
family  property,  the  name  should  be  changed  to 
Torphichan-Stirling.  At  first  he  had  been  greatly 
averse  from  this,  but  something  —  it  is  not  necessary  to 
say  what  —  had  induced  him  to  change  his  mind.  Now 
it  struck  him  forcibly  tliat,  with  the  new  financial 
possibilities    before    him,   he    might    very    well    drop    his 

105 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

practice,  and  even  the  title  of  Doctor,  which  he  had 
once  been  so  proud  of.  It  now  began  to  appear 
common  and  undignified,  associated  as  it  was  with  red 
lamps,  guinea  fees,  and  a  hired  carriage  with  yellow 
wheels. 

But  all  the  while  Sylvanus  was  thinking  these  things 
his  head  was  reverently  bowed.  His  lips  moved  auto- 
matically in  silent  prayer,  and  all  the  folk  (save  the 
minister)  stood  afar  off  and  said  to  each  other  what  an 
honour  it  was  for  religion  that  a  man  so  great  should 
yet  show  himself  so  surpassingly  devout. 

But  Tom  Torphichan,  a  brand  as  yet  entirely 
unplucked,  walked  sulkily  behind  because  they  would 
not  let  Dick  accompany  him  to  the  funeral.  However, 
even  as  it  was  he  did  not  waste  his  time.  He  looked 
about  him  during  the  long,  slow  progress  from  the 
house  of  Arioland  to  the  little  graveyard,  noting  likely 
rabbit-holes  on  sandy  brae-faces  and  watching  the 
hedges  for  hare  runs,  so  that  he  could  come  over  under 
cloud  of  night  and  set  "  grins."  He  wished  he  had  a 
chance  to  kick  the  young  Master  of  Darroch,  who  had 
come  to  the  funeral  of  his  old  friend  and  benefactor, 
and  whom  Sylvanus,  that  excellent  and  approven 
Pharisee,  had  at  once  called  up  to  the  highest  seats  of 
the  synagogue.  Indeed,  he  had  compelled  Carus,  much 
against  his  will,  to  walk  beside  him  all  the  way,  and  to 
him  was  assigned  the  cord  at  the  bottom  of  the  coffin, 
even  as  Sylvanus  held  that  at  the  top.  When  all  was 
ready  Sylvanus  nodded  to  Carus,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  When  you  are  ready."  For  Carus  was  the  son  of  a 
lord,  and  that  was  Sylvanus's  religion.  He  also  hoped 
to  be  a  lord  someday,  and  it  was  well  to  inculcate  respect 
for  his  own  future  position. 

In  the  great  house  of  Arioland  Mrs.  Sylvanus  drew  a. 
iq.6 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

Ions;  breath  as  soon  as  she  saw  her  mother's  coffin  well 
down  the  avenue.  She  rang  the  bell  and  called  Megsy 
up  to  her  from  the  whitewashed  kitchen,  where  she  was 
stilling  the  sobs  of  the  little  girl  Hester. 

"  Take  all  these  clothes  down  and  clear  awav  every- 
thing before  they  come  back.  1  am  going  to  my  own 
room  ! " 

And  so,  like  a  moving  pyramid  of  crape,  Mrs. 
Torphichan  rustled  and  rasped  herself  awav.  It  was 
true  she  did  go  to  her  own  room,  but  instead  of  sitting 
down  to  mourn  in  the  hopelessness  of  grief,  as  she 
hoped  all  would  understand  that  she  was  doing,  she  did 
something  infinitely  more  practical.  She  took  pencil 
and  paper,  and  began  to  design  a  new  crest  and  motto 
to  be  put  upon  the  black-edged  note-paper.  "  For," 
she  said,  "  it  was  not  fitting  that  those  who  had  been 
'called'  to  high  position  should  write  on  paper  stamped 
plainlv  24,  Eglinton  Square,  Abercairn.  That  was 
well  enough  -for  Torphichans,  but  for  the  landed  family 
of  Torphichan-Stirling  of  Arioland  an  engraved  crest 
was  a   necessity." 

It  was  evening  before  Hester  knew  her  fate. 
And  she  would  not  have  known  it  then,  had  it  not  been 
that  Megsy  Tipperlin  precipitated  events  by  requesting 
the  honour  of  an  interview  with  Dr.  Sylvanus  himself. 

That  great  and  good  man  was  sitting  in  the  dining- 
room  with  his  fingers  netted  evenly  in  front  of  him, 
those  soft  padded  fingers  which  were  like  a  benediction 
to  so  many  of  his  ladv  patients  f"  There  is  something 
almost  hallowed  about  Dr.  Torphichan,  you  know,  my 
dear!").  He  was  twirling  his  thumbs  round  each  other 
like  a  Tibetan  pravcr-whccl.  He  did  not  turn  in  his 
chair  when  Megsy  in  a  clean  white  "  mutch  "  and  black 
silk   apron   stood    in   the   doorway.      He   did    afterwards, 

107 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

though,  long  before  she  betook  herself  out.  His  wife 
sat  at  the  table,  the  weepers  of  her  mourning  cap  trailing 
down  on  either  side  of  her  long  horselike  face.  She  had  a 
pencil  in  her  hand,  and  with  a  melancholy  air  was  trying 
to  think  of  a  suitable  motto  for  the  new  coat  of  arms. 

"  Well,  Tipperlin  ?  "  said  Dr.  Sylvanus,  briefly,  with 
a  rising  inflection. 

"  I  hae  come  to  ken  your  intentions,"  said  Megsy. 
Her  tone  caused  Sylvanus  to  turn  his  head  slightly. 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  know  if  you  have  been  left 
anything  in  the  will  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  curious  look  on 
his  face. 

"Na,  I  dinna  !  "  said  Megsy. 

"  What,  then,  do  you  want  at  such  a  time  r  " 

"  To  ken  what  is  to  come  o'  the  bairn  ?  " 

"  You  mean  the  child  my  mother  has  supported  for 
so  long  ? "  put  in  Mrs.  Torphichan  from  the  table. 
Sylvanus  made  a  sign,  well  understood  by  his  wife,  that 
she  was  to  leave  him  to  deal  with  the  matter  alone. 

"  Aye,  mem,  juist  Hester  Stirling,  the  only  child  o' 
your  ain  elder  brother,"  said  Megsy,  pertinently. 

"  I  have  not  yet  made  any  plans,  Tipperlin,"  said 
Sylvanus,  willing  to  pacify  the  woman ;  "  this  great 
sorrow  has  come  so  unexpectedly  and  been  so  crushing 
upon  us  all." 

"  Aye  ?  "  said  Megsy,  with  interrogation  in  her  voice. 

"  So  terribly  sudden,"  repeated  Sylvanus,  who  was 
professionally  adept  at  such  expressions,  "  but  so  far  as 
Mrs.  Torphichan  is  concerned " 

("  Torphichan-Stirling  !  "  put  in  his  wife  in  an  under- 
tone, shaking  her  head  as  if  engaged  in  composing  a 
new   meditation  among  the  tombs.) 

"  As  far  as  I  have  consulted  my  wife,  we  had  thought 
of  putting  Hester  Stirling  into  some  respectable  family, 

1 08 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

or  under  the  care  of  some  responsible  person,  with  a 
view  to  her  education  according  to  her  position.  Of 
course,  as  wc  should  have  to  pay  for  this  ourselves,  it 
would  be  quite  in  a  plain  way.  The  child  does  not 
seem  to  be  of  such  a  nature  that  one  could  venture  to 
bring  her  up  with  one's  own  children.  They  must  ever 
be  our  first  consideration.  But  she  is  young — she  is 
young  !     She   may   improve  !  " 

"  She  may,  sir  !  "  said  Megsy,  "  but  as  there  is  twa 
thoosand  pounds  due  her  on  the  day  she  is  twenty-wan, 
it  might  be  as  weel  to  talc'  some  sma'  trouble  wi'  her 
eddication  !  " 

Svlvanus  turned  right  round  in  his  chair. 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  he  cried,  bending  his 
brows  upon  her  as  he  did  at  meetings  of  the  medical 
council  when  an  enterprising  junior  ventured  to  dispute 
his  dictum. 

"  Because  my  mistress  let  me  see  the  will,"  said 
Megsy,  quite  unintimidated,  adding  as  if  by  afterthought, 
*' on  her  road  up  frae  the  minister's." 

"  And  is  the  minister  also  acquainted  with  the  terms 
of  my  mother-in-law's  bequests  ?  " 

"  He  is  that !  "  affirmed  Megsy. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Sylvanus,  deep  in  thought.  This  had 
not  previously  occurred  to  him.  He  must  walk  circum- 
spectly, for  there  were  serious  matters  involved  here.  If 
Mrs.  Stirling  had  told  the  minister  of  her  own  bequests, 
she  might  also  have  confided  to  him  the  trust  her  son 
had  committed  to  her. 

*' Did    Mrs.  Stirling  frequently  consult   this  Mr.  —  ah 

—  Borrowman  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Megsy,  diplomatically,"  as  it  niicht  happen 

—  whiles  aye  and  whiles  no  !  " 

Clearly  Sylvanus  must  proceed  c  autiously.      V.vvu  this 
109 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

woman  might  know  more  than  he  thought.      It  would 
not  do  to  quarrel  with  her. 

"  Weel,  aboot  the  bairn,"  she  went  on,  "  what  objec- 
tions hae  ye  to  commit  her  to  me  till  sic  time  as  her 
faither  comes  hame  to  claim  her?  " 

Dr.  Sylvanus  lifted  a  newspaper,  rustled  the  pages, 
and  pointed  with  his  thumb  to  the  place  he  had  so 
frequently  referred  to  during  these  last  twenty-four 
hours. 

Megsy  took  a  pair  of  steel-bowed  spectacles  from 
her  pocket,  adjusted  them  upon  the  bridge  of  her  nose, 
gave  them  a  little  sidelong  hitch  to  get  the  focus  of  her 
best  eye,  and  slowly  read  the  paragraph. 

"  Sirce  —  sirce  —  oh,  sirce  —  the  puir  bairn  !  Without 
faither  or  mither  —  thrown  to  the  —  of/^^«i?^,"  she  mur- 
mured as  she  read,  the  sheets  shaking  audibly  in  her 
hand. 

Then  very  quietly  she  laid  the  paper  down  on  the 
table,  drew  off  her  spectacles,  and  calmly  wiped  both 
glasses  on  her  apron. 

When  next  she  spoke  it  was  in  a  firm  voice. 
"  If  this  be  so,  what  objection  hae  ye  that  I  should 
tak'  the  bairn  mysel'  ?  I  hae  near  forty  years' 
character.  The  minister  or  ony  yin  in  the  parish  will 
speak  for  Margaret  Tipperlin.  I  will  gang  to  Cairn 
Edward,  where  there  are  good  schools  and  kindly  folk. 
And  as  I  hae  tried  to  be  a  mither  to  her  in  her  helpless 
bairn-time,  so  will  I  be  in  her  youth.      What  say  ye  ?  " 

Sylvanus  looked  at  his  wife  to  signal  still  further 
silence.  "  Tipperlin,"  he  said,  slowly  weighing  his 
words  as  he  went,  "  this  proposal  is  certainly  unex- 
pected. But  it  does  you  credit,  and  I  am  not  sure 
that  it  is  not  in  the  meantime  as  good  a  solution  of  the 
difficulty   as    any.      But   let  us  clearly  understand  each 

no 


M  E  G  S  Y     BEARDS     1'  H  E     LION 

other  before  we  go  further.  I  am,  as  I  understand  you 
are  aware,  sole  trustee  under  the  will,  but  I  am  prevented 
bv  the  terms  of  the  deed  from  paying  over  Hester 
Stirlincr's  bequest  till  she  shall  have  reached  the  a^e  of 
twcntv-one  years.  Whatever  is  done,  then,  must  come 
out  of  my  own  pocket  as  a  charity,  l^nderstand  that 
there  is  no  legal  claim  upon  me  to  do  anything 
whatsoever !  " 

"Sir,"  said  Megsy  Tipperlin,  "claim  here  or  claim 
there  —  if  ye  will  lippen  me  wi'  the  bairn,  by  the  grace 
of  God  I  will  see  that  Hester  Stirlin'  is  brocht  up  as 
her  faither's  daughter  ocht  to  be  brocht  up  !  " 

"  But  how  can  you  afford  to  undertake  such  a 
thing  ? "  cried  Mrs.  Sylvanus,  no  longer  able  to  keep 
silence. 

"Weel,"  said  Megsy,  with  a  queer  shrewd  look  at 
the  questioner,  "  there's  a  pickle  siller  lyin'  in  the  bank 
in  my  name,  and  a  bit  hoose  and  garden  that  the 
minister  bocht  for  me  real  reasonable  doon  at  Cairn 
Edward — I  hae  been  a  plain  woman  a'  my  days,  and  a 
decent  bonnet  and  a  bettermost  frock  every  year  or  twa 
hae  been  the  maist  o'  my  ootlays.  Forbye  there's  the 
twunty-five  pound  that  ye  are  obligated  to  pay  me  ilka 
Whitsunday  term  !  " 

Dr.  Sylvanus  Torphichan  was  taken  'vith  a  little 
twinge  like  sudden  toothache.  It  was  not  so  much  the 
payment  of  the  money,  though  that  was  bad  enough, 
but  his  uncertainty  as  to  the  extent  of  Mcgsy's  knowl- 
edge that  affected  him.  But  he  only  gravely  nodded 
his  head. 

"So,"  he  said,  approvingly,  "you  seem  to  have  done 
very  well,  Tipperlin,  out  of  this  family.  And  I  must 
say  it  shows  an  exceedingly  proper  spirit  that  you 
should  be  willing  to   adopt  this  child  who,  by    force    of 

III 


MEGSY     BEARDS     THE     LION 

circumstances,  bears  its  name.  I  repeat" — this  with 
great  condescension — "that  the  wish  does  you  every 
credit." 

"  Dinna  ye  fash  yoursel'  aboot  that !  "  said  Megsy, 
with  some  hauteur. 

"And  without  committing  my  dear  wife  and  myself 
to  anything,"  Sylvanus  went  on,  "  I  may  say  that  we 
will  second  you  in  this  to  the  best  of  our  ability  —  in  so 
far,  that  is,  as  we  can  do  so  with  justice  to  our  own 
family.  We  will  send  you  down  once  a  year  a  box, 
or  at  least  a  parcel  of  suitable  clothing,  to  make  down 
for  the  child." 

"  Thank  ye  kindly,  sir,"  said  Megsy,  curtseying  as 
she  retired  ;  "they  will  come  in  handy  for  dishclouts  !" 


112 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE   MINISTER'S    FORTIETH    HOUSEKEEPER 

IT  was  to  the  study  of  the  minister  of  the  Parish 
of  St.  John's  that  Megsy  took  her  troubles  and 
her  beloved's  future  the  night  after  Dr.  Sylvanus 
had  departed  for  Eglinton  Square,  along  with  a  very 
sullen  Tom,  who  was  returning  most  unwillingly  to 
school.  She  had  put  Hester  to  bed,  wrapping  her  well 
up  in  the  bed-clothes,  and  charging  her  not  to  throw 
them  all  off  in  her  sleep,  as  she  had  a  trick  of  doing. 

The  study  of  Mr,  Anthony  Borrovvman  was  a  sight 
which,  being  once  seen,  was  not  easily  forgotten.  It 
impressed  even  non-literary  and  Batavian  visitors, 
who,  with  intent  of  marriage  or  satisfaction  of  scandal 
upon  their  minds,  found  themselves  seated  on  the 
edge  of  a  chair,  the  rear  works  of  which  were  piled  as 
high  as  the  back  would  allow  with  dusty  books  and 
dustier  pamphlets.  Relatives  of  Mr.  Borrowman,  many 
and  various,  peered  with  the  lifted  hands  of  wonderment 
into  the  mvsterious  depths  of  the  room  that  had  once 
been  a  best  parlour  of  a  mistress  of  the  manse  in  rea- 
sonable and  pre-Borrowmanian  times.  The  walls  were 
lined  with  shelves  which  it  was  the  rankest  flattery  to 
call  "  plain  deal."  There  was  not  a  plain  inch  in 
them.  Mr.  Borrowman  had  simplv  waited  till  the  floor 
became  utterly  impassable,  and  then  with  the  material 
nearest  to  his  hand  —  generally  rough  planks  brought 
upon  his  shoulder  from  the  saw-mill — he  had  nailed 
and  coopered  up  s(jnKtiiing  which,  if  iiohodv  leaned 
8  113 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

against  it,  or  kicked  away  the  shores  with  which  the 
erection  was  buttressed  on  similar  ones  below,  would 
support  as  many  books  as  could  be  coaxed  and  wedged, 
upon,  above,  beneath,  and  around  it. 

The  literary  reader  gazed  with  amazement  at  what 
he  considered  the  disorder  of  the  whole.  The  novel  of 
yesterday  lay  next  the  editio  princeps  of  Tacitus  his 
Annals,  or  the  little  red-bound  cropped  Oxford  octavo 
of  wise  old  Burton —  most  cheerful  of  melancholy  men 
—  elbowed  some  disreputable  yellow-papered  Frenchman 
or  stone-coloured  German,      v 

But  the  confusion  existed  only  in  the  minds  of  such 
as  possessed  not  the  key  to  this  admired  disorder.  For 
it  was  a  fixed  idea  with  Mr.  Borrowman  that  there 
exists  no  book  so  dull,  so  crassly  stupid,  so  utterly 
superfluous  that  it  could  not  bring  to  the  seeing  eye 
something  of  personal  or  historical  value,  if  only  patho- 
logical, or  even  criminal.  He  maintained  this  even  of 
local  poetry. 

To  the  intimate  who  objected  that  the  only  explana- 
tion of  the  confusion  worse  confounded  of  the  house 
(for  every  room  was  equally  full  of  books )  must  be  that 
Mr.  Borrowman  took  all  his  exercise  wandering  from 
room  to  passage  and  from  garret  to  cellar  looking  for 
the  volumes  he  wanted,  the  minister  had  this  unanswer- 
able retort : 

"What  you  say,  sir,  shows  only  once  more  the  lack 
of  clearness  in  your  own  thinking,  which  I  have  had  so 
often  reason  to  animadvert  upon.  I  presume,  sir,  that 
you  have  at  least  heard  of  the  science  of  geology, 
recently  so  much  acclaimed  among  us.  Well,  sir,  when 
a  geologist  opens  out  a  new  stratum  he  finds  fossils  of 
fish,  shells,  leaves  of  plants,  and  a  thousand  other 
things    all   huddled    together.      He   does   not   find   these 

114 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

arranged  according  to  their  sizes,  or  even  according  to 
their  characteristics,  anatomical  or  otherwise.  Yet  is 
that  what  you  are  pleased  to  call  confusion  ?  No,  my 
dear  sir,  to  the  mind  of  the  geologist  that  apparent 
disorder  is  fuller  of  instruction  than  any  cut-and-dried 
so-called  order.  For  all  these  unrelated  particles  lived 
and  had  their  being  together.  The  mammoth  and  the 
cave-bear  were  drowned  in  the  same  flood  which  swept 
the  limpet  from  his  rock  and  buried  the  sturgeon  alive 
in  his  coffin  of  plate  armour." 

"  But,  Mr.  Borrowman,"  urged  a  clerical  brother, 
unwise  even  to  temcritv,  "surely  books  are  not  geologic 
strata,  even  when  fossils  write  them  !  " 

"  Sir,"  was  the  instant  retort,  "  if  you  would  do  me 
the  favour  to  follow  my  argument.  I  assure  you  I  am 
making  it  specially  simple  in  order  to  suit  your  capacity. 
In  the  same  manner,  if  I  were  to  open  up  one  of  these 
collocations  of  volumes,  which  seem  to  you  so  absurd 
and  fortuitous,*I  should  discover  the  whole  history  of  the 
formation  of  my  mind  upon  a  certain  subject.  There, 
f(jr  instance,  is  a  pile  which  refers  wholly  to  the  influence 
of  the  Genevan  English  Bible  of  1560  upon  the  mind 
and  style  of  Shakespeare.  Here,  again,  under  my  hand, 
vou  will  find  all  the  books,  which  I  used  in  writing  my 
reply  to  Mr.  Hcadly  Granger's  vituperative  pamphlet, 
'  Is  Scotch  a  dialect  or  a  language  .'' '  " 

But  meantime  we  are  keeping  Megsy  Tipperlin  wait- 
ing, which  is  worse  manners  than  those  shown  by  Mr. 
Borrowman  himself;  for  that  worthy,  if  somewhat 
unkempt,  divine  opened  the  door  for  his  visitor  less 
than  a  miiuitc  after  she  had  rung  the  cracked  manse 
bell. 

"  Come  your  wa\s  in,  Margaret,  ye  are  welcome 
indeed  '  "  said  Mr.  iiorrowman,  who   had   two   styles   of 

I '5 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

conversation,  one  for  the  simple  and  the  other  for  those 
whom  (often  on  insufficient  data^  as  he  agreed  with  him- 
self) he  was  content  to  consider  the  learned.  "  Come 
your  ways  ben,  Margaret,  and  I  will  see  if  I  can  find 
you  a  chair,  always  a  difficult  matter  at  this  time  of  the 
year,  after  my  foreign  book-box  comes  in  from  Berlin. 
Moreover,  I  have  just  parted  with  Mary.  That  makes 
my  thirty-ninth.  I  keep  a  register  of  them.  Nineteen 
have  been  dismissed  because  they  were  discovered  dust- 
ing elsewhere  than  in  the  kitchen,  the  bedroom  in  which 
strangers  sleep,  and  the  chamber  where  I  take  my  simple 
meals.  It  is  a  most  terrible  thing  that  women  are  so 
constituted  that  they  cannot  keep  their  fingers  from 
dusters  !  Some  of  these  females  were  outwardly  respect- 
able, too !  Eight  of  the  remainder  greased  or  polished 
or  oiled  or  blacked  my  shoes,  so  that  after  putting  them 
on,  my  fingers  made  upon  various  folios  and  octavos 
marks    and    stains   such  as   no  fuller  could  whiten." 

"  And  what  came  o'  the  rest  o'  your  housekeepers  ?  " 
said  Megsy,  with  a  certain  contempt  in  her  smile.  She 
was  perfectly  assured  that  no  minister  that  lived  would 
have  served  Marget  Tipperlin  thus. 

"  Oh,  the  other  twelve  were  most  of  them  light- 
minded  hizzies,  with  well-fa'red  faces,  who  left  to  get 
married,  or,  at  all  events,  evaded  upon  some  suchlike 
frivolous  pretext  as  that !  But  what  can  I  do  for  you, 
Margaret  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Borrowman,"  said  Megsy,  sitting  on  the  edge 
of  a  chair  and  leaning  forward,  "  I  have  come  to  you  for 
your  advice  aboot  the  lassie-bairn,  Hester  Stirling.  I 
hae  this  nicht  taken  it  upon  me  to  bring  her  up,  and  I 
hae  sair  doots  aboot  my  capacity — though,  the  Lord 
kens,  no   aboot    my   guid-will." 

"  Margaret,"  said  the  minister  with  his  shrewdest 
ii6 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

look,  "  what  hae  auld  dried  stocks  like  you  and  me  to  do 
wi'  lassie-bairns  —  you  wi'  your  hens  and  me  wi'  my 
books  ?  " 

"  Minister,  ye  are  pleased  to  speak  the  word  that  ye 
little  mean,"  answered  Megsy,  "but  gin  ye  gie  me  your 
advice  therewith,!  shall  be  the  more  content.  I  couldna 
sleep  in  my  naked  bed  if  I  thought  that  the  young  lamb 
was  to  be  left  to  the  wolves " 

"In  sheep's  clothing!"  murmured  the  minister, softly, 
as  if  to  himself. 

"Often  hae  I  hinted  it  to  Her-that's-gane  that  she 
should  make  some  ither  arrangement.  But  what  mither 
can  see  ony  faut  in  her  ain  ?  She  aye  howpit  that 
David  wad  come  back  and  settle,  frae  oot  that  cruel 
heathen  land  o'  Burmah.  And  as  to  her  dochter  Sarah, 
that  is  wife  to  Doctor  Torphichan  o'  Abercairn,  she 
thocht  her  sic  a  wonder  that  the  showers  o'  heaven 
shouldna  licht  on  her." 

"  And  am  I  to  understand,  Margaret  Tipperlin,"  said 
the  minister,  with  apparent  severity,  "  that  you  regard  so 
eminently  pious  a  vessel  as  Mrs.  Sylvanus  Torphichan 
with  aversion  ?" 

"  Na,  Maister  Borrowman,  na,  I  diima  regard  her  ava," 
said  Megsv  ;  "  she  is  to  me  as  the  adder  or  the  asp  !  " 

"Margaret,  Margaret!"  cried  the  minister,  "this  is 
mi-Christian — most  un-Christian.  And  I  do  not  know 
but  that  I  shall  have  to  take  notice  of  it  when  ye  come 
forrit  for  your  token  at  the  next  communion  !  But  in 
the  meantime,  what  is  your  difficulty  .?  " 

Then,  as  Mr.  Borrowman  trimmed  his  evening  lamp, 
rubbing  the  black  off  the  wick  with  the  sleeve  of  his 
coat  (Megsy's  hands  twitching  all  the  time  with  desire 
to  (io  it  herself),  the  old  servant  of  the  house  of  Arioland 
told  her  talc  —  how  she  had  saved  "a  wee  pickle"  and 

117 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

now  by  the  death  of  her  mistress  come  into  another 
"  wee  pickle."  How,  as  he  knew,  she  had  a  "  bit 
cottage"  of  her  own  in  Cairn  Edward,  and  so  on  at 
much  greater  length.  How  it  was  her  fixed  purpose  to 
give  Hester  such  a  schooling  as  would  fit  her  for  her 
father's  place  and  rank  in  life.  The  minister,  when  he 
had  finished  settling  the  globe  in  its  place,  sat  down 
and  listened.  He  did  not  once  interrupt  the  tale, 
but  only  kept  slowly  muttering  to  himself,  "  Oh^  aye ! 
Aye-ow-ayel  Uncha ! "  without  ever  ceasing  for  a 
moment. 

After  Megsy  had  ended,  Anthony  Borrowman  sat 
awhile  silent,  watching  the  flicker  of  the  peat  fire  seek- 
ing its  way  up  through  the  oval  opening  in  the  little 
register  grate. 

At  last  he  asked  a  question.  *'  How  long  does  your 
engagement  at  Arioland  last  ?  " 

"  Nae  engagement  hae  I ! "  said  the  old  woman,  with 
swift  vehemence,  "  my  engagement  ended  when  my 
mistress  lifted  her  lines  frae  the  kirk  veesible  to  hand 
them  in  to  the  Kirk  Inveesible." 

"  And  you  are  sure  they  would  not  object  to  your  re- 
moving the  child  ?  " 

"  Deed  no  —  object !  They  wad  be  blythe  to  see  the 
last  o'  baith  her  and  me.  And  that  braw  madam  o'  a 
servant  lass  they  brocht  frae  Abercairn  will  be  the 
better  o'  puttin'  her  hand  to  the  scrubbin'  o'  a  pot  or  twa 
and  the  readyin'  o'  a  supper." 

"Then,  Megsy,"  said  the  minister,  looking  up  at  her, 
"  I  am  a  lonely  man,  and  counted  a  cross-grained  — but, 
till  ye  are  ready  to  flit  into  your  own  house,  what  say  ye 
to  bringing  your  kist  down  here,  and  trying  to  keep  mine 
for  a  space  till  I  look  about  me  !  " 

Megsy  Tipperlin  shook  her  head,  smiling  as  she  had 
ii8 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

not  done  since  she  had  seen  that  other  smile  on  her 
mistress's  face  in  the   morning  light. 

"  Na,  na,  minister,"  she  said,  "  I  am  no  gaun  to  be 
the  fortieth  on  your  list.  Megsy  Tipperlin  could  never 
keep  her  hands  art  thae  bulks,  nor  you  your  tongue  aft' 
her !  We  are  guid  frien's  as  we  are.  Dinna  let  us 
rin  headlong  into  temptation  !  " 

"Suppose  we  compromise,  Megsy?" 

"What  's  your  wull  ?" 

"  I  say,  suppose  we  agree  to  meet  each  other  half- 
way. I  will  not  observe  that  you  have  been  dusting,  if 
you  will  refrain  from  moving  one  single  book  out  of  its 
appointed  place." 

"D'ye  caa  this  the  appointed  place  o'  that  bulk, 
minister  ?  "  said  Megsy,  pointing  to  the  top  volume  of 
a  pile  on  which  the  master  of  the  house  was  leaning. 
"  There,  what  did  I  tell  ye ?  " 

The  pile  slipped  sideways  on  its  unstable  foundations, 
broke  in  the  middle,  and  distributed  itself  over  the  floor 
with  a  slithering  clatter,  disengaging  clouds  of  dust  on 
its  way. 

"  I  'm  makin'  ye  an  oftcr,  Margaret !  "  said  Mr.  Bor- 
rowman,  quite  impervious  to  so  slight  an  event  as 
that. 

"  And  I  'm  answerin',"  said  Megsy,  "  if  ye  will  gie  a 
bit  quiet  hour  to  the  bairn's  learnin'  when  ye  hae  nocht 
better  to  do,  I  'm  willin'  to  bear  wi'  your  temper  as  far 
as  is  in  mortal  woman,  and  also  to  leave  your  buiks  in 
their  appointed  places  —  savin'  always  those  that  may  be 
(as  it  were)  accidentalh   cli.-,turbit  !  " 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  The  very  next  nior/iing 
Megsy  appeared   at   the  door  of  the  parlour. 

"  Guid-day   to    yc,  mem,"   she    said,   with    the   crisp 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

brevity  which   characterised    all    her  dealings   with    the 

Torphichans,  and  making  her  regulation  curtsey   as   if 

she  were  lodging  a  protest  along  with  it. 
"  Well,  Tipperlin  ?  " 
"  I   cam'   to   bid  you  guid-day,  mem,"    said    Megsy, 

calmly    drawing     on    her    black    thread     gloves.      She 

was     dressed    in     her    Sunday    best,  as    she    said,   "  to 

gang    to   a   minister's    hoose,   little    as    it   deserves    the 

name." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Tipperlin  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Torphi- 

chan,  turning  with  the  brow-beating  frown  which  was 

never  known  to  fail  of  its  effect  in  Abercairn. 

"  What  I  say,  mem.      JVIe  and  the  bairn  are  gaun  to 

oor  new  situation,  at  the  manse  o'  the  pairish  o'  Saint 

John  !  " 

"  But  surely  you  would  not  leave  us  till  we  are  suited 

—  you  will  receive  not  a  penny  of  wages  if  you  do.      I 

bid  you  remember  that !  " 

"  Be  ye  weel  assured,  mem,  that  Megsy  Tipperlin 
kens  her  richts,"  answered  that  dauntless  dame.  "  She 
never  was,  nor  never  will  be  a  servant  in  the  hoose  o' 
Mistress  Sarah  Torphichan.  An'  when  she  comes  to 
claim  her  just  dues,  your  guidman,  wha  kens  brawly 
what  side  his  bread  is  buttered  on,  will  no  refuse 
her.  But  Marget  is  nae  clod  to  gang  withoot  a  ceevil 
word.  Guid-day  to  ye,  mem.  Anders  MacQuaker, 
the  kirk  offisher,  will  caa'  for  my  bit  box.  My  service 
to  a'  your  innocent  lambs,  Mistress  Torphichan  !  May 
you  and  them  a'  thrive  accordin'  to  your  several 
deserts !  " 

And  in  this  manner  Megsy  Tipperlin  left  the  house  of 
her  forty  years'  service,  taking  Hester  by  the  hand  and 
walking   sedately   out    down    the    avenue,   through    the 


THE     FORTIETH     HOUSEKEEPER 

clachan,  and  so  to  the  white  gate  of  the  manse.  The 
minister  met  her  there. 

"  What  said  she,  Marget  ?  "  he  asked,  eagerly  for 
him. 

"She  said  naething,  sir,"  she  answered,  "but  juist 
played   chock  *   vvi'   her  jaw   like  a  body  doited  !  " 

*  /'.  e. ,  Made  a  clicking  sound  like  a  senile  person  trying  to  speak. 


121 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  GLANCE  UNDER  THE  SUNBONNET 

THE  story  of  the  many  years  that  followed  I  do 
not  mean  to  tell  at  large.  Yet  I  cannot  forbear 
the  pleasure  of  mentioning  how  swiftly  "  Megsy 
o'  Arioland "  became  the  "  Minister's  Megsy,"  and  a 
power  in  the  land  infinitely  greater  than  before.  To 
her  was  committed  the  power  of  the  duster,  and  with 
that  emblem  of  authority  much  real  influence  in  the 
affairs  of  the  little  green-bosomed  hill-girt  commonwealth 
of  the  parish  of  the  Evangelist. 

Yet  for  all  that,  her  rule  sat  lightly  upon  all  con- 
cerned. The  minister  was  well  fed  and  well  clad.  His 
linen  on  Sabbaths  was  no  more  "  a  sicht  to  be  seen,"  as, 
previous  to  her  advent,  the  Clachan  good-wives  had, 
with  some  reason,  affirmed  it  to  be.  Neither  do  I  mean 
to  record  at  length  "  how  the  minister  spoiled  that  bairn," 
a  process  which,  indeed,  was  patent  to  all.  Hester  was 
certainly  made  "  old-fashioned  "  beyond  her  years,  by  the 
constant  society  of  three  old  people,  who  never  before 
had  had  a  child  to  divide  among  the  three  of  them. 
For  in  the  matter  of  spoiling  Hester,  Anders  MacOuaker 
was  even  worse  than  Megsy  and  the  minister,  and  being 
(inter  alia)  minister's  man  he  had  good  reason  for  being 
often  about  the  manse.  Hester  indeed  regarded  his  snug 
whitewashed  house  at  the  top  of  the  Back  Raw  in  the 
Clachan  as  more  completely  her  own  property  than  even 
the  manse,  which  sat  like  a  square-built  St.  Peter's  at 

122 


A  GLANCE  UNDER  THE  SUNBONNET 

Rome  at  the  apex  of  its  neat  double  colonnade  of  trees 
with  the  Darroch  water  murmuring  a  little  way  beyond. 

And  the  things  that  bairn  learned  !  They  were  at 
once  the  glory  and  the  scandal  of  the  neighbourhood. 

Did  she  not  pose  a  neighbouring  young  minister, 
who  was  thought  to  be  "  upsetting,"  with  a  question 
about  Nero  and  the  burning  of  Rome  ?  And  when  he 
floundered  and  tried  upon  the  spur  of  the  moment  to 
rub  up  his  classical  history,  was  it  not  Hester  who 
replied,  "  Oh,  yes,  people  used  to  think  so,  I  know,  but 
Mommsen  has  put  an  end  to  all  that !  " 

At  which  first  Mr.  Anthony  Borrowman,  and  after- 
wards three  presbyteries  chuckled. 

To  another  who  was  "  a  bit  of  a  poet,"  she  recom- 
mended the  study  of  Milton.  "Paradise  Lost"  was 
nicer  to  read  than  the  little  book  he  had  sent  her,  though 
that  was  pretty,  too.  She  had  given  it  to  Anders  for  a 
flybook,  and  Anders  liked  it  fine. 

To  yet.  another  who  thought  to  court  Hester  by 
asking  her  to  leave  Megsy  and  Mr.  Borrowman,  and 
come  with  him  to  his  grand  new  manse  down  in  the 
market-town,  grace  was  given  her  to  reply  as  follows  : 
"  I  wonder  you  are  not  feared,  with  Megsy  as  witness, 
Mr.  Girvie  —  and  after  the  last  thne^  too  !  " 

The  young  man  was  currently  reported  to  have  paid 
somewhat  sharply  to  escape  the  consequences  of  a 
f(jrmer  love  affair.  For  in  Galloway  no  minister  can 
face  even  the  name  of  a  suit  for  breach  of  promise  of 
marriage. 

Yet  with  all  the  pepperiness  of  her  tongue  the  little 
girl  had  a  wealth  of  love  to  bestow.  She  lavished  it  on 
Megsy  in  caresses  and  pretty  exigencies,  for  to  please 
her  bairn  had  become  as  tlic  breath  (;f  life  to  the  manse 
housekeeper.      The  sadness  of  lur   position,   fathir  and 

123 


A  GLANCE  UNDER  THE  SUNBONNET 

mother  dead,  her  heritage  taken  by  another,  the  "  grey 
wolf  "  her  legal  guardian  —  only  *'  twa  auld  dune  bodies 
(and  Anders  that  is  half  doited)  "  to  look  after  her  — 
what  wonder  was  it  if  in  that  kindly  place  Hester  ran  a 
hard  chance  of  being  spoilt. 

Then,  most  culpable  of  all,  there  was  the  minister 
himself,  with  whom  she  trotted  on  all  his  pastoral 
visitations.  He  also  did  his  best  to  spoil  the  girl,  and 
the  dry  ironic  smile  played  seldomer  about  the  close- 
lipped  mouth  when  she  was  with  him.  At  other  times 
he  bent  his  intellect  to  the  task  of  imparting  vulgar 
fractions  and  the  rivers  of  Europe,  so  that  when  the 
time  came  Hester  might  speak  with  her  peers  unashamed 
in  the  gate.  But  a  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  teacher 
to  refer  everything  to  First  Principles,  and  a  belief  in 
Latin  prose  as  the  one  real  necessity  of  a  good  educa- 
tion, made  Hester's  lesson-hours  very  peculiar  ones  for 
a  girl. 

Nevertheless,  these  were  happy  years,  and  all  the  time 
the  minister  sighed,  and  told  himself  it  was  not  fair  to 
the  maid.  This  year  should  certainly  be  the  last.  She 
must  go  among  her  equals.  She  must  mix  with  other 
more  ordinary  girls,  and  learn  their  ways.  She  was 
growing  up  straight  and  tall  as  a  young  fir  that  springs 
out  of  a  cleft  above  the  Darroch  Linn,  and  though  her 
figure  kept  its  spareness  and  her  features  were  still  over- 
large  for  her  face,  there  was  a  something  in  the  luminous 
intensity  of  her  dark  eyes,  something  stormy  and  almost 
tragic,  like  the  sun  rising  out  of  a  purple  cloudbank, 
that  made  the  minister  quake  when  he  thought  of  her 
future. 

But  it  was  ever  "  only  this  summer,  and  then  !  "  For 
summer  is  beautiful  in  the  strath  of  the  Darroch.  Then 
again  it  was  "  after  the  winter  she  shall  go  !  "      Winter 

124 


A  GLANCE  UNDER  THE  SUNBONNET 

bites  snell  between  Moniaive  and  the  Kells  range.      And 
so  the  years  went  by  till  Hester  neared  eighteen. 

The  crisis  came  one  day  late  in  June.  Hester  had 
gone  out  with  the  minister  in  the  afternoon.  He  had  a 
parishioner  to  visit  up  the  Glcncairn  water,  and  the  girl 
and  he  took  the  Waterside  stepping-stones  in  their  stride 
like  a  couple  of  ploughmen,  talking  all  the  time.  In 
after  years  Air.  Borrowman  often  remembered  how  they 
were  discussing  the  theory  that  great  revolutions  are 
cyclical,  and  have  their  periods,  like  eclipses  and  the 
nutation  of  the  earth,  as  he  argued. 

Hester,  of  course,  had  not  much  to  do  with  the 
enunciation  of  the  theory,  nor  with  the  development  of 
it.  The  minister  attended  to  these  things  himself.  But 
she  criticised  every  detail,  raised  a  hundred  neat  objec- 
tions, and  found  holes  in  the  minister's  chronology  at 
every  bend  of  the  path. 

By  the  time  they  got  to  the  road  which  winds  up  the 
side  of  the  streamlet  as  it  comes  slipping  and  brattling 
down  the  glen,  the  minister  was  in  full  blast.  He  had 
forgotten  everything  but  "cyclical  revolutions."  They 
were  the  only  things  in  the  world  worth  considering, 
and  at  the  sound  of  his  considering  the  cattle  down 
on  the  meadows  began  to  bunch  and  straggle  homeward 
thinking  thev  were  being  called  to  from  afar.  While  the 
sheep  on  distant  pastures  looked  over  their  shoulders  for 
the  herd's  dogs,  hearing  a  stormy  voice  crying  mysteri- 
ously below. 

Mr.  Borrowman  was  contending  for  a  period  of  three 
hundred  years  as  that  which  best  fitted  the  facts  — 
"  Roughlv,  of  course — you  can't  expect  these  things  to 
go  off  as  if  timed  with  slow  matches  !  " 

"No,"  said  Hester,  mischievously,  "but  most  of  your 
matches  arc  very  slow,  and  some  don't  go  oft'  at  all !  " 


A  GLANCE  UNDER  THE  SUNBONNET 

"That  is  an  objection  futile — perfectly  futile,"  Mr. 
Borrowman  was  declaiming.  "  I  wonder  at  you,  Hester. 
In  presence  of  a  great  and  glorious  truth  like  this  — 
newly  discovered,  and  clearly  demonstrated,  you  can 
only  raise  such  paltry  objections  as  that  the  French 
Revolution  did  not  come  exactly  three  hundred  years  to 
a  day  after  the  Reformation  !  Hester  Stirling,  ye  are  a 
besom ! " 

The  minister  twirled  his  stick  by  the  handle,  as  if  it 
were  his  driving-wheel,  and  the  works  were  racing. 
He  had  just  thought  of  the  theory  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
ago,  and  it  seemed  good  for  several  months  of  discus- 
sion. He  was  now  thoroughly  enjoying  himself.  He 
took  up  his  parable  again,  in  a  voice  excellently  calcu- 
lated to  impress  his  statements  upon  the  quiet  dead  a 
mile  back  in  the  kirk-yard.  "  Listen  to  me,  girl.  I 
will  recapitulate — to  begin  with,  some  three  centuries 
after  the  birth  of  Christ,  there  was  the  general  accept- 
ance of  Christianity  by  the  people  of  the  one  civilised 
empire.  Then  after  like  periods,  we  have  the  breaking 
up  of  the  old  order  in  the  seventh  century,  the  begin- 
nings of  the  feudal  system  in  the  tenth,  its  culmination 
in  the  thirteenth " 

"  A  culmination  is  not  a  revolution,"  murmured 
Hester. 

The  minister's  stick  instantly  did  four  hundred  and 
fifty  of  the  latter  to  the  minute. 

"Hold  your  tongue,  minx!"  he  cried,  "you  will  not 
give  me  time  to  speak  a  word  !  A  culmination  is  a 
revolution,  as  I  will  speedily  prove  to  you.  The  top  of 
the  curve  where  this  staff  begins  to  descend — the  apex 
of  change,  as  one  might  say,  has  as  much  right  to  be 
called  a  revolution  as  an  upheaval  from  beneath,  like 
the  French  Revolution.      Moreover  the  thirteenth  cen- 

126 


A  GLANCE  UNDER  THE  SUNBONNET 

turv  did  represent   the   culmination    both  of  the   feudal 

s\  stem  and  of  the Bless  me,  voung  man,  who  are 

you  r 

The  minister  was  stopped  dead  in  full  career.  He 
had  come  to  a  stile  over  a  hill  dyke,  and  as  he  was 
throwing  a  careless  leg  across,  he  very  nearly  set  a 
heavy-tacketed  boot  upon  the  head  of  a  young  man  who 
was  quietly  seated  on  a  lower  step  at  the  other  side, 
deep  in  the  study  of  a  book.  In  his  attempt  to  save 
himself  from  this  catastrophe  the  minister  did  tread 
somewhat  vigorously  upon  the  youth's  straw  hat. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Borrowman  ?"  cried  the  young 
man,  instantly  rising  to  his  feet  and  holding  out  his 
hand  ;  "  what  —  have  you  forgotten  me  .?  You  used  to 
be  very  kind  to  me,  sir,  and  did  my  holiday  versions  for 
me  several  times." 

"Why,  Carus  Darroch,"  cried  the  minister,  cordially, 
"what  has  kept  you  so  long  away,  lad  .^  You  have 
been  at  college  and  brought  home  a  decent  degree,  I 
hope  ?  Ah,  that 's  right !  Though  you  are  the  Master 
of  Darroch,  a  flavour  of  lear  will  do  you  no  harm. 
This  ?  Oh,  this  is  my  little  girl  — I  think  you  used  to 
know  her — little  Hester  Stirling  of  Arioland,  as  she 
ought  to  be,  if  that  —  ah,  well,  I  must  refrain  myself, 
and  endeavour  to  practise  the  Christian  charity  I  preach. 
Yet"  —  in  a  lower  tone  as  if  meditating  —  "the  Lord 
Himself  cursed  the  serpent  from  the  beginning  !  On  his 
belly  shall  he  go  !  " 

While  he  was  speaking  the  minister  was  watching 
Carus  Darroch  glancing  curiously  at  Hester.  He  was 
holding  the  ruin  of  his  straw  hat  in  his  left  hand  ;  while 
for  a  moment  he  kept  the  young  girl's  right  in  his. 

"  Why,  you  can  never  be  the  little  girl  I  carried  home 
out    of  the    wood,"  he    said,  his    eyes    telling    out    their 

12-J 


A   GLANCE    UNDER   THE   SUNBONNET 

astonishment,  "you  have  not  grown.  You  have  simply 
been  made  all  over  again  !  " 

The  blood  coursed  richly  in  Hester's  cheeks  at  the 
remembrance.  Her  face  had  not  ordinarily  much  colour. 
But  now,  in  spite  of  herself,  she  blushed  when  the  tall 
young  man  looked  down  upon  her.  Mr.  Borrowman 
gasped  and  stopped,  his  eyes  growing  wider  and  wider, 
and  his  next  unanswerable  argument  being  silenced  upon 
his  tongue. 

"  Why,  my  little  girl 's  a  woman,  and  I  never 
noticed  !  "  he  said  over  and  over  to  himself.  Then  he 
grunted  two  or  three  times  uncomfortably  as  he  stood 
gazing. 

"I  am  sure  you  are  glad  to  forget  that,"  Hester  was 
saying,  "I  was  horrid  to  you  —  and  all  those  people  at 
Arioland,  except  poor  grandmother,  that  is,  were  horrid 
too  !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  have  never  forgotten  it,"  said  Carus 
Darroch ;  "  only  to-day  I  went  to  look  at  the  place 
where  I  found  you.  The  tree  you  were  leaning  against 
was  blown  down  some  years  ago,  but  everything  else  is 
much  the  same  as  it  was.  You  must  come  with  me  and 
look  at  it  some  day." 

The  girl  promised  readily,  but  the  minister  deep  in  his 
heart  thought  otherwise. 

Hester  wore  a  white  linen  sunbonnet  which  she  had 
thrown  on  hastily,  "  as  they  were  not  going  through  the 
village,  and  it  was  best  for  the  midges."  And  now  she 
seemed  inclined  to  retire  her  face  beneath  it,  and  look  at 
the  heather.  It  was  strange.  Usually  she  threw  back 
her  head,  and  gazed  straight  and  fearless  at  gentle  and 

simple  alike.    But  now ?   The  minister  was  puzzled 

for  a  moment.  Then  he  smiled  a  little  and  said  to  him- 
self:  "Anthony  Borrowman,  you  are  getting  old  indeed 

128 


i^ 


"  Fit  T   sow,    IS    brilK   0|-    IIKRSKI,!',    SUM    IH.LSIIi;!)." 


A    GLANCE    UNDER   THE   SUNBONNET 

to  have  forgotten  how  the  young  of  the  sexes  look  at 
each  other!  All  the  same,  this  will  never  do.  This 
must  be  seen  to  at  once.  At  once,  Anthony  !  You 
ha\'e  put  ofFtoo  long,  sir!  You  are  a  selfish  old  man, 
Anthony.  Umph  —  umph  —  what  did  I  tell  you,  sir,  a 
thousand  times?  You  should  have  sent  that  girl  away  — 
yes,  long  ago.  We  must  have  no  more  village  maids 
broken-hearted  or  sons  and  heirs  disinherited.  Hester  is 
her  father's  daughter,  but  she  is  her  mother's  too  —  and 
though  she  may  not  be  pretty  —  you  can  never  tell ! 
And  —  bless  me,  how  the  witch  is  blushing,  and  looking 
down  !  Like —  why  just  as  Jennie  Lake  used  to  look  — 
what  an  old  fool  you  are,  to  remember  how  Jennie  Lake 
looked  down  at  the  ground  forty  years  ago  !  Now  then, 
Anthony  I  Attention,  Anthony  I  Shoulder  arms  !  Quick 
march  1  " 


129 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AN    ANSWER    TO    PRAYER 

WHILE  Hester  slept  soundly  in  her  small  white 
bed,  lulled  by  the  pleasant  summer  rustle  of 
the  oaks  and  beeches  about  the  old  manse 
garden,  Mr.  Borrowman  "  had  it  out "  with  Megsy. 
This  is  rarely  a  pleasant  process  for  any  one  concerned, 
and  it  was  neither  pleasant  nor  particularly  illuminating 
upon  this  occasion. 

Decidedly  Hester  must  go  —  but  where  ?  He  had  no 
relatives  to  whom  he  could  entrust  her — Megsy  of 
course  was  in  a  similar  condition.  A  school  to  "  finish  " 
in  ?  Mr.  Borrowman  hated  the  name  and  the  thing. 
Hester  was  educated  as  no  girl  in  Scotland  had  been. 
This  he  held  firmly  to,  yet  society  polish  ("  even  if 
superficial,"  said  the  minister),  the  companionship  of  her 
age  and  sex,  these  were  absolutely  necessary. 

"  If  you  had  only  heard  her,"  he  said  proudly,  "  on 
the  Reformation,  and  the  French  Revolution,  to-day  ! 
The  jade  had  me  again  and  again.  But  I  did  not  tell 
her  so." 

Megsy  shook  her  head. 

"  That 's  a'  verra  weel,"  she  said,  "  but  the  lassie  is 
growing  her  ain  feathers  noo,  and  soon  she  will  cast  a' 
your  auld  borrowed  plumes  and  pookin's  that  ye  wad 
stick  on  to  her,  to  the  moles  and  to  the  bats  !  She  maun 
live  as  a  young  lass,  amang  young  lassies.  She  is  a 
leddy,  and  should  be  amang  her  kind  —  no  wi'  auld 
selfish  fowk  like  us  —  askin'  your  pardon,  sir  !  " 

130 


AN     ANSWER      ro     PRAYER 

"  Aye,  '  sellish,'  iVlegsy,"  groaned  the  minister,  "  ye 
have  said  it,  woman.  That  was  what  came  home  to  me 
on  the  muir  to-day.  When  I  saw  the  young  Master 
tning  to  keek  under  that  lassie's  sunbonnet  —  it  all  came 
to  me  in  a  flash.  Hester  must  leave  us — must  leave 
us!"' 

"  But,  oh,  sirce  !  The  desolation  o'  the  hoose  !  " 
lamented  Alegsv,  "  never  to  hear  her  step  come  flichterin' 
doon  the  stair,  and  her  voice  in  the  chambers  liltin'  like 
a  bird  !   Empty  !  —  a'  empty  !  " 

"Hoot — hoot,"  said  the  minister  with  indignation, 
"  I  am  selftsh,  but  you  must  not  catch  the  disease, 
Margaret  !  True,  it  will  be  lonesome,  but  after  all 
there  's  the  post  and  there  's  the  railway.  She  will  be 
back  to  us  before  wc  know  it  !  " 

Yet  more  sadly  Megsy  shook  her  head. 

"  Aye,  maybe,"  she  said,  with  a  pathetic  fall  to  her 
voice,  "  but  never  the  young  bird  o'  the  nest.  Na, 
never  again  !  Never  ony  mair  oor  ain  wee  lassie  — 
the  bairn  that  cuddled  in  to  me  when  she  had  nae  ither 
mither,  the  bairn  that  —  oh,  sir,  bear  wi'  me.  I  am  a 
foolish  auld  body,  gin  ye  like,  but  she  has  been  to  me 
mair  than  ony  dochter  —  me  that  was  auld  and  thrawn 
and  ill  to  look  upon.  And  she  has  lo'ed  me  weel,  and  I 
had  nane  ither !  " 

And  Megsy  picked  at  her  black  apron  and  alternately 
sobbed  and  wiped  the  tears  with  the  beaded  hem  of  her 
best  apron,  minding  no  more  than  if  the  rough  jet  had 
been  the  finest  and  softest  silk. 

"  Aye,"  said  the  minister,  sadly,  "  when  the  young 
birds  fly  the  auld  nest  is  bound  to  look  bare.  Hut  your 
life  and  mine,  Megsy,  arc  wearing  down  to  the  swirl  of 
the  sand  in  the  hour-glass.  Hester's  lies  before  her  full 
to  the  l)rim,  scarce  a  score  of  grains  yet  fallen   into  the 


AN     ANSWER     TO     PRAYER 

abyss.  It  remains  to  us,  therefore,  to  keep  an  open 
door  for  her,  here  in  the  auld  manse,  to  do  our  day's 
work  and    to  pray." 

"  Aye,"  said  Megsy,  bitterly,  "  ye  hae  your  books  — 
an'  me  my  duster !  They  are  braw  consolations  for  the 
licht  o'  the  e'e,  the  blithe  word,  the  lovin'  young  heart  ! 
Guid  be  thankit,  there  's  better  consolation  still  —  oot 
yonder  aneath  the  wa'  there  's  grass  growin'  green  to  hap 
us  up  !  " 

"  Megsy  —  Megsy,  we  are  in  ill  key.  Let  us  read 
the  Word,  and  if  we  can,  offer  up  a  prayer.  It  may  be 
that  with  the  morning,  light  will  arise  ! " 

It  arose  ;  but  —  strange  are  the  ways  of   Providence 

—  in  a  way  little  desired  by  any.  Mr.  Borrowman  had 
a  habit  of  going  morning  by  morning  to  the  waterside, 
where,  close  by  the  kirk,  there  is  a  walk  under  trees 
pleasant  of  shade,  dappled  every  bright  day  with  yellow 
flecks  of  sunshine  and  blue  splashes  of  shadow.  It  is 
still  called  "  the  minister's  walk."  And  the  minister 
after  whom  it  is  called  was  Mr.  Borrowman,  whose  tall 
figure,  bent  a  little  at  the  shoulders,  was  to  be  seen 
every  morning  for   thirty  years  pacing  it    up  and  down 

—  on  wet  mornings  wrapped  to  the  heels  in  a  long 
waterproof  coat  and  with  hands  clasped  behind  his 
back.  But  on  fine  mornings  he  carried  a  little  Greek 
Testament  between  his  finger  and  thumb,  which  in  time 
came  to  be  a  sacred  and  mysterious  thing  to  the 
villagers. 

But  whether  Anthony  Borrowman  was  reading,  or 
praying,  or  meditating  at  such  times  was  known  only  to 
the  Two  immediately  concerned,  and  is  a  matter  which 
does  not  come  into  this  history. 

On  this  particular  morning  as  he  returned,  lo !  the 
clachan  postman,   the    official    and  impartial   distributor 

132 


AN     ANSWER     TO     PRAYER 

of  Fate  in  these  times  (and  sometimes  as  terrible  as 
the  entire  conclave  of  the  Grim  Sisters)  met  him.  One 
letter  only  was  for  the  minister.  It  bore  the  London  post- 
mark. The  minister  opened  it  roughly  with  his  thumb, 
and  read  the  answer  to  his  prayer — an  answer  bitter  in 
the  mouth,  and  unlooked  for  as  snow  in  August. 

"  Dear  Sir  (  it  read  ),  —  It  will  surprise  you  to  receive  a 
communication  from  me^  as  guardian  of  the  little  girl^ 
Hester  Stirling,  who^  as  I  am  given  to  understand,  has 
been  under  your  roof  for  some  years  past.  I  understand, 
also  that  you  have  provided  for  her  education  and  main- 
tenance. I  feel  it  to  be  a  duty  which  I  owe  to  the  re- 
spectable of  Hester  Stirling's  progenitors  {in  which  class  I 
sincerely  wish  that  I  could  include  her  parents^  that  I  should 
defray  any  reasonable  charges  you  may  have  been  at.  Be 
good  enough,  therefore,  to  draw  up  a  properly-attested 
statement  and  forward  it  to  me.  If  I  am  satisfied  with 
the  items  I  shall  immediately  send  you  a  cheque  for  the 
amount  of  your  claim " 

At  this  point,  Anthony  Borrowman  stamped  his  foot 
and  the  remark  he  made  under  his  breath,  though  not 
without  excuse,  could  hardly  be  considered  as  worthy  of 
a  placed  minister  of  the  Kirk  of  Scotland  as  by  law 
established. 

He  stood  still,  grimly  biting  his  lip,  while  he  perused 
the  remainder  of  the  communication. 

"  But  it  is  borne  in  upon  my  dear  wife  and  ynyself,  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  Hester  Stirling  comes  into  the 
possession  of  a  very  considerable  sum  of  money  at  the  age 
of  twenty-one,  that  we  should  have  her  more  immediately 
under  our  own  eye,  in  order  that  she  may  have  the  very 
necessary  influence  and  stimulus  of  a  Christian  home " 

Here  the  minister  of  Saint  John's  parish  again  made 
a  remark. 

133 


AN     ANSWER     TO     PRAYER 

"  Where  by  example  and  precept " 

"Oh,  I  must  skip  this  —  I  really  can't  stand  it!" 
ejaculated  Anthony  Borrowman,  rustling  the  pages 
impatiently,  for  the  letter  was  of  some  considerable 
length.  "  Um — umm — desires  that  the  girl  he  prepared 
for  the  important  change  in  her  circumstances  as  quickly  as 
possible^  but  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  —  T  bless  the  woman, 
Sarah  Stirling,  he  means)  —  desires  that  no  purchases  of 
clothing  be  made  in  the  country^  as  it  is  her  intention  that 
Hester  Stirling  shall  be  brought  up  with  her  own  younger 
children^  and  accotnpany  them  on  their  walks.  In  order 
that  she  should  do  this^  it  is^  of  course^  necessary  that  she 
should  be  decently  and  appropriately  clothed  !  " 

("I  suppose  the  man  thinks  we  have  had  her  running 
about  the  Glenkells  in  a  suit  of  woad !  I  wish  to 
heaven  he  was,  and  I  two  yards  behind  him  with  a 
horsewhip  !  "  ) 

"  The  girl  will  be  met  at  St.  Pancras  any  day  I 
mention,  and  he  is,  reverend  sir,  my  obedient  servant, 
Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling,  Bart." 

"  Bah,"  said  Mr.  Borrowman,  fiercely,  crushing  the 
paper  in  his  hand  with  a  violence  quite  unseemly  in  a 
placed  minister,  and  striding  on  to  the  house,  making 
the  good  Darroch  Water  gravel  grind  under  his  angry 
heels. 

"  It 's  enough  to  make  a  man  never  pray  again,  to 
get  an  answer  like  this ! "  he  said,  unorthodoxly. 
"  Margaret !  " 

It  was  indeed  the  day  of  Marah  —  of  the  drinking  of 
bitter  waters  —  to  the  minister  and  Megsy,  when  they 
were  called  upon  to  decide  whether  their  little  maid 
should  go  into  what  the  latter  called  the  "  den  of 
wolves." 

134 


AN     ANSWER     TO     PRAYER 

But  it  was  certain  that  Dr.  Svlvanus  (now  Sir 
Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling,  Bart.)  had  the  power  to 
enforce  his  request.  Moreover,  after  all,  it  might 
possibly  be  that  the  letter  betokened  a  change  of  heart 
and  a  desire  to  make  amends  for  years  of  neglect.  At 
any  rate,  the  experience  would  give  Hester  opportunities 
of  seeing  the  world  such  as  it  was  impossible  she  could 
ever  have  in  the  Clachan  of  Saint  John.  Then 
Anthony  Borrowman  thought  of  the  sunbonnet,  and 
resolved  that   she  should  go. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  this  day  when  the  minister 
called  Hester  to  him  in  the  study.  She  was  ensconced 
in  an  arbour  of  purple  creepers  out  on  the  lawn  with 
a  favourite  book  — "  Lockhart's  Life  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott."  It  went  to  his  heart  to  disturb  her,  but  it 
had  better  be  done  at  once.  The  waters  of  iVIarah  do 
not  improve  by  keeping. 

"  I  will  not  go,"  she  cried,  in  a  sudden  panic  of  grief. 
"  I  am  qui<e  happy  here  —  I  don't  care  to  see  the  world. 
I  do  not  want  experience.  I  want  just  to  stay  with 
you   always  —  always  !  " 

The  minister's  voice  said  something  here. 

"  Whv  is  he  my  guardian  ?  Did  my  father  leave  him 
my  guardian  ?  My  grandmother  had  no  right.  I  do 
not  want  her  money.  What  is  two  thousand  pounds 
to  me?  I  will  not  go  to  my  cousins.  That  is,  not 
unless  you  wish  to  be  rid  of  me  !  That  is  it  —  I  see  it 
now  !  You  want  to  get  rid  of  me.  You  are  tired  of 
me.  And  so  is  Megsy !  I  am  sure  that  is  why  you 
wish   me  to  go  away   from  you  !  " 

And,  flashing  into  a  sudden  fiery  passion  of  tears, 
Hester  flung  herself  out  of  the  study  and  Itjcked  herself 
into  her  room. 

But  that  night,  after  the  minister  h.id  gone  slowly 
135 


AN     ANSWER     TO     PRAYER 

to  his  chamber,  bowed  down  with  the  burden  which 
had  so  suddenly  come  upon  him,  he  heard  a  voice  with- 
out, very  soft  and  low  :  "  I  am  so  sorry  I  said  it !  It 
was  very  wicked.  Please  forgive  me  !  I  can't  go  to 
sleep  till  you  do  !  " 

The  minister  of  Saint  John  opened  the  door.  He 
had  been  standing  looking  out  of  the  unshut  window, 
the  sough  of  the  Water  of  Darroch  in  his  ears  and  the 
black  branches  of  the  beech  trees  tossing  gloomily 
against  a  stormy  sky.  He  saw  now  a  tear-stained  face, 
masses  of  tumbled  dark  hair,  and  a  sensitive  mouth 
that  quivered  and  tried  to  smile. 

"  Revvie,  I  am  sorry  !  "  the  trembling  lips  said.  And 
it  will  hardly  be  believed  that  this  daring  girl  had  thus 
contracted  the  ancient  and  sonorous  title  of  "  Reverend," 
which  is  the  right  of  all  Scottish  ministers  of  the  Gospel. 
But  so  it  was,  and  it  shows  what  she  was  capable  of. 

The  old  minister  took  Hester's  face  between  his 
hands  and  kissed  her  on  the  brow. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  said,  "  you  are  more  to  me  than 
any  child  of  my  flesh  could  ever  have  been.  You  are 
the  child  of  my  spirit,  the  joy  of  my  age,  the  companion 
who  has  brought  happiness  and  new  life  to  a  man  who 
stood  on  the  verge  of  the  grave.  Yet,  for  a  time  at 
least,  we  must  let  you  go  from  us  —  Megsy  and  I  —  and 
be  content  to  watch  you  afar  off.  But  remember,  if 
that  to  which  you  go  prove  too  hard  —  if  the  stairs  of 
the  stranger  be  too  steep,  the  fremit  bread  too  bitter, 
the  door  of  the  old  manse  stands  open,  and  there  is 
ever  the  old  place  at  the  table  for  you.  But  it  is  right 
that  you  should  go,  and  the  Lord  who  gave  will  help  us 
who  wait  to  bide  here  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand  !  " 

"  Megsy,"  the  same  pleading  voice  from  the  same 
piteous  red  lips  were  to  be  heard  at  the  old  servant's 

136 


AN     ANSWER      lO     PRAYER 

door  a  tew  minutes  later,  "  Megsy,  dear,  are  you 
asleep  ?  " 

There  was  silence  for  a  while,  and  Hester  was  almost 
stealing  away  silently  as  she  had  come,  when  she  heard 
Megsy's  voice,  altered  somewhat,  and  hoarse,  as  if  with 
many  tears. 

"  Yes,  my  bairn,  bide  —  I  am  comin'  to  you  !  " 

"  Let  me  come  in  to  you,"  Hester  said,  "  I  want  to 
sleep  beside  you  this  one  last  night !  " 

And  so  the  two  who  had  been  almost  as  mother  and 
daughter  —  the  woman  who  had  never  had  a  child  of 
her  flesh,  and  the  girl  who  had  never  known  a  mother's 
love  save  that  of  Alegsy  Tipperlin's  faithful  and  devoted 
service,  lay  all  night  awake,  while  the  rain  splashed  on 
the  window  in  driving  sheets,  and  the  wind  lashed  the 
leaves  of  the  beeches  upon  each  other  with  a  noise  like 
the  Northern  Sea  on  a  rocky  shore.  But  when  with 
the  dawn  the  storm  as  suddenly  ceased,  and  the  light 
came  up  broad  and  large  and  warm  out  of  the  east, 
the  terror  of  great  darkness  seemed  to  pass  from  off 
Hester's  spirit,  and  she  rose  and  kissed  the  wrinkled 
old    face. 

"  You  have  done  so  much  for  me,  Megsy,"  she 
sobbed.  "  I  have  done  nothing  for  you.  But  now  I 
will  trv  to  be  good  for  your  sake  —  and  Revvie's  !  I 
will  — 1   will  — I   will!" 


137 


CHAPTER   XVII 

HESTER    IN    THE    STRANGER'S    LAND 

SYLVANUS  was  far  along  the  high  road  towards 
his  goal.  He  had  entered  politics  nearly  ten  years 
before.  He  became  one  of  the  heaviest  contrib- 
utors to  the  campaigning  funds  of  a  certain  political 
organisation  which  requires  a  great  deal  of  such  sinews 
of  war.  And,  as  he  was  really  a  scientific  man  in  his 
way,  and  took  a  prominent  part  in  all  discussions  as  to 
public  health,  both  on  the  platform  and  in  the  House,  it 
was  felt  that  such  a  man  was  at  least  as  deserving  of 
a  handle  to  his  name  as  an  average  distiller  or  beer- 
magnate.  Besides,  he  was  so  rich.  He  had,  it  was 
said,  speculated  in  diamonds  and  other  precious  stones 
with  enormous  success.  It  was  whispered  that  his 
share  in  certain  diamond  mines  at  the  Cape  amounted 
to  several  millions  sterling.  It  was  beyond  question 
that  he  was  largely  interested  in  precious  stones.  He 
went  and  came  a  good  deal  to  Amsterdam,  which  is  at 
once  a  rallying  and  a  distributing  point  for  all  who  buy 
and  sell  carbon  and  alumina  in  their  crystallised  forms. 

So  not  only  his  wealth,  but  his  repute  had  waxed 
higher  and  higher  every  year.  He  had  now  his  house 
in  Empress  Gate,  and  it  was  whispered  that,  for  the 
next  London  season,  he  was  in  treaty  for  a  palace  in 
Park  Lane. 

His  wife  interested  herself  so  largely  in  good  works 
of  the  latest  and  most  fashionable  kind,  that  little  time 
was  left  her  for  the  duty  of  attending  to  her  younger 

138 


HESTER    IN    THE    STRANGER'S    LAND 

children,  of  whom  there  were  three.  Of  the  seniors, 
whose  acquaintance  we  have  aheady  made,  Tom  was 
now  leaving  college.  But,  as  yet,  he  was  of  no  particu- 
lar account  in  the  house,  and,  as  of  yore,  his  sister  Vic 
was  his  sole  crony  and  contidant. 

As  may  well  be  believed,  it  was  with  a  heart  compact 
of  fears  tumultuary,  that  Hester  found  herself  being 
whirled  southward  through  the  soft,  pleasant  dusk  of 
an  English  twilight  into  the  humming  lamp-lit  wilder- 
ness of  London. 

All  day  she  had  been  in  a  constant  state  of  wonder 
and  bewilderment.  The  rush  and  clang  of  a  great  rail- 
way, the  echoing  spaciousness  of  Carlisle  station,  the 
eager  shoutings  of  the  porters,  the  whisking  by  of  tele- 
graph poles,  and  now  the  racing  lights  of  the  far-ex- 
tending city,  all  these  her  heart  noted  with  the  sick 
and  sinking  thought,  "  I  am  leaving  behind  me  all  I 
love,  and  I  am  going  to  those  who  will  hate  and 
despise  me."* 

Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  that  Hester  was  not  alone 
during  any  part  of  the  way,  or  her  face  would  most 
likely  not  have  been  "  fit  to  be  seen,"  as  Megsy  had 
warned  her  would  be  the  case  if  she  did  not  approve 
herself  "a  brave  lass." 

Hester  had  seen  and  heard  many  new  things  that 
day.  The  soft  rounded  hills  of  England,  the  gentle 
lilting  speech,  the  contrast  of  the  red  brick  of  the 
houses  and  the  intense  green  of  the  foliage,  the  lazy 
flap  of  a  windmill  by  the  seaward  side  of  the  line,  all 
brought  it  home  to  Hester  that  she  was  very  far  indeed 
from  her  own  country. 

And  so,  when  the  train  drew  up  at  St.  Pancras 
with  a  long  musical  sigh  of  regret  (which  was  the 
settling  back   of    the   carriage   bodies    into   repose),    her 

»39 


HESTER    IN    THE    STRANGER'S    LAND 

heart  beat  thickly  in  her  ears,  and  she  gasped  as 
if  not  comprehending  when  the  man  asked  for  her 
ticket. 

She  was  to  be  met,  she  knew.  And  she  looked  out 
for  her  aunt,  whom  she  had  seen  once  or  twice  during 
brief  summer  visits  to  Arioland.  Or  at  least  one  of  her 
cousins  would  come.  She  was  not  prepared,  however, 
for  the  tall  man-servant  who,  with  a  rug  folded  neatly 
over  his  arm,  paraded  up  and  down,  peering  into  all  the 
first-class  carriages. 

Looking  from  the  window  of  her  third,  she  heard 
him  distinctly  ask  the  guard  for  "  Miss  Stirling  "  ! 

Could  that  be  meant  for  herself?  She  took  the  little 
bag  which  "Revvie"  had  bought  for  her  in  Cairn 
Edward  in  her  hand,  and  ran  after  the  man.  He 
looked  so  tall  and  stately  that  she  hardly  dared  speak  to 
him. 

"  If  you  please,"  she  said,  "  I  am  Hester  Stirling!  " 

The  man  stared  hard  down  at  her,  as  if  she  were 
feloniously  trying  to  pass  herself  off  on  him  as  a 
member  of  a  respectable  family. 

"  I  saw  you  in  the  third  class,  but  I  did  n't  imagine  — 
well,  'ave  you  any  luggage.  Miss  ?  " 

Then  when  in  the  ruck  of  the  luggage  delivery 
Hester's  trunk  was  pointed  out  to  him,  a  large  one  of 
japanned  tin — *' very  commodious"  the  Cairn  Edward 
ironmonger  had  called  it  —  his  nose  pointed  more 
angularly  than  ever  up  at  the  roof  of  the  terminus. 

''  This  must  go  on  a  keb,"  he  murmured,  "  we 
certingly  can't  take  it  on  the  kerrige.  It  'ud  dis- 
grace us  for  ever.  I  '11  put  it  on  a  four-wheeler 
and  take  his  number.  Why,  it 's  like  a  'ousemaid's 
going  to  her  first  place !  This  is  wot  we  has  to 
put  up  with,  William,"   he  confided   to   the  coachman 

140 


HESTER    IN    THE    STRANGER'S    LAND 

afterwards,    "  through    talcin'     service    with     these    'ere 
nivoo  reesh  !  " 

Then  came  a  lonw  drive  through  streets  which  all 
looked  terribly  crowded  to  Hester.  She  was  certain 
that  every  second  person  must  infallibly  be  run  over 
before  reaching  home.  The  gas  lamps  strung  them- 
selves out  till  there  seemed  no  end  to  them,  and  there 
were  so  many  turnings  all  looking  alike,  that  she  could 
not  believe  that  the  driver  really  knew  his  way.  He 
must  just  be  experimenting,  in  the  hope  of  chancing 
upon  her  aunt's  house  somewhere  or  other. 

But  at  last  they  stopped  in  a  place  which  seemed 
a  little  less  terrible  to  her.  There  was,  it  is  true,  a 
great  wall  of  houses  facing  her,  with  lighted  windows 
and  shining  lamps  stretching  away  on  either  hand. 
But  immediately  opposite,  the  trees  rustled  their  leaves, 
and  she  could  hear  the  wind  sough  among  them  just 
as  it  was  doing  at  that  moment  by  the  Darroch 
Water  —  but  here  a  sob  rose  involuntarily,  and  was  as 
instantly  checked. 

Hester  had  an  ordeal  to  undergo,  and  she  was 
determined  to  face  it  bravely  for  the  sake  of  "  Revvie" 
and  Megsy. 

In  the  hall  there  was  another  tall  man  in  pale  blue 
coat  and  knee  breeches,  who  looked  even  more  imposing 
than  the  first.  Withtjut  even  asking  her  name,  he 
showed  Hester  up  two  flights  of  broad  stairs  till  he 
paused  at  a  large  door.  He  inclined  his  car  and 
listened.  Apparently  what  he  heard  satisfied  him  — 
or  perhaps  what  he  did  not  hear.  For  he  opened  the 
door,  and  ushered  Hester  in  withcnit  announcement. 

It  was  a  great  room,  far  grander  in  every  appointment 
than    anything    Hester    had    ever    beheld.      There    were 

141 


HESTER    IN    THE    STRANGER'S    LAND 

tea-tables  covered  with  a  debris  of  dishes  and  dainty 
silver.  Flowers  and  palms  stood  about  in  corners. 
Yet  the  place  was  dimly  lighted  in  comparison  with  the 
brightness  of  the  stairways.  The  idea  seemed  to  be  to 
have  as  many  lights  as  possible,  and  then  to  swathe 
and  jacket  and  overcoat  them,  so  that  as  little  of  it  as 
possible  should  be  in  any  way  useful.  Every  little 
globe  about  the  room  was  equipped  with  a  kind  of 
double  extinguisher  at  top  and  bottom,  of  pink  silk 
and   frilled   in  the   middle. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  room  a  pair  of  figures  stood 
very  close  together.  It  seemed  to  Hester  as  if  the 
young  man  had  been  holding  the  hand  of  his  companion, 
a  young  lady,  dressed  in  a  most  beautiful  costume, 
which  at  that  time,  so  little  advanced  was  her  social 
education,  she  did   not  recognise   as  a  Liberty  tea-gown. 

This  pale  green  vision  turned  and  caught  sight  of 
them  on  the  threshold. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Timson,"  she  said,  "  breaking 
into  the  drawing-room  like  this  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss,"  stammered  Timson  — 
"but  I  thought — I  understood  as  how " 

"  You  had  no  right  to  understand,  or  to  think.  You 
knew  very  well  I  have  this  room  for  my  guests,  and 
that  the  young  —  ah — lady  (How  do  you  do,  Hester  ?) 
was  to  be  shown  to  the  schoolroom  till  my  lady  could 
receive  her  !  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  Ethel  !  "  said  Timson,  submissively. 

"  Come  this  way,  Miss,"  he  whispered  to  Hester  in 
quite  another  tone,  as  if  she  had  been  responsible  for 
his  disgrace.  As  the  girl  was  going  out  of  the  door 
she  heard  her  cousin  say,  apparently  in  answer  to 
some  remark  of  the  very  elegant  young  gentleman 
who,  without    showing  the  least   embarrassment,  stood 

142 


HESTER    IN    THE     STRANGER'S    LAND 

posing  with  his  elbow  on  the  mantelpiece,  "  No,  do  not 
go.    Captain    Carisbrook.      It    is    only    a  sort    of    poor 

relation   father   is  takinir  care  of " 

But  at  that  moment  the  door  closed   upon   Hester's 
cousin   and   her   visitor. 


143 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A    SOMEWHAT    WARMER    WELCOME 

HESTER  followed  the  tall  servitor  in  the  silver 
and  pale  blue  coat  vi^ith  a  feeling  akin  to  awe. 
He  on  his  part  had  abandoned  all  ceremony  with 
her,  and  having  accurately  apprehended  from  Miss 
Ethel's  tone  the  newcomer's  exact  position  in  the  house, 
he  confined  himself  to  "  This  way ! "  and  so  strode 
brusquely  before  her,  along  certain  passages  which 
seemed  to  run  about  two  sides  of  a  large  square.  Then 
he  stopped  at  a  door  from  behind  which  a  great  noise, 
confused  and  peculiar,  was  proceeding.  Timson  did  not 
knock  gently,  probably  knowing  that  he  would  damage 
his  knuckles  in  vain.  He  merely  thumped  with  his 
closed  fist  and  opened. 

It  was  a  curious  scene  upon  which  Hester  was  ushered 
so  unceremoniously,  and  even  the  tall  Timson,  in  haste 
to  return  to  his  statutory  occupation  of  admiring  his  own 
calves  and  flirting  broadly  with  such  of  the  servant-maids 
as  might  chance  to  pass  through  the  hall,  stood  a  while 
watching  it  with  a  grin. 

In  the  corner  of  the  room  furthest  from  the  door  a 
slight  pale-faced  young  girl  was  penned  in  by  a  table 
which  three  riotous  children  were  pushing  against  her 
chest.  She  was  making  violent  but  unsuccessful 
attempts  to  resist  them,  and  to  reach  her  feet,  which 
had  somehow  been  tethered  to  the  legs  of  the  chair. 

"  My  eye  and  Betty  Martin  !  "  the  eldest  was  crying, 
a   red-headed  boy  of  about  thirteen,  "Come  on.  Lot; 

144 


A   SOMEWHAT    WARMER    WELCOME 

push,  Grubby,  you  little  lazy  beast  —  give  it  to  her.  I  '11 
show  her  how  '  prep '  is  done  at  our  school !  " 

"  Oh,  please  don't,  Master  Stanhope,  you  are  huiting 
—  let  me  go  !  "  cried  the  pale  girl,  ''  here  is  some  one. 
What  would  your  mamma  say  if  she  knew  how  you 
behave  ?  " 

"  She  '11  say  nothing,  'cause  she  won't  know.  She  'd 
sack  you  right  away  if  she  did.  Then  you  'd  never  get 
any  more  shawls  and  things  for  your  old  mother.  She 
lives  in  an  almshouse,  we  know,  for  we  have  seen  you 
go  in  !  Ha,  ha,  you  did  n't  know  that,  Betty  !  Lot  and 
me  watched  you.  Miss  Elizabeth  Martin." 

"  Do  let  me  go " 

"  Sing  '  Clementine,'  then.  You  shan't  go  unless. 
Pipe  out  like  this 

"  Hello,  though,  here  is  somebody  —  oh,  it's  only  ma's 
long-lost  brother  or  niece  or  something.  Say,  Country, 
let's  see  your  birthmark  —  shell  out  that  strawberry  on 
the  arm  or  we  shan't  own  you  !  None  genuine  without  ! 
Come  and  hear  Miss  Martin  sing  !  " 

Then  Master  Stanhope  Torphichan-Stirling  turned 
round  to  the  younger  two. 

"  Now,  you  little  beasts,"  he  cried,  "  stand  in  line. 
Get  ready  to  bow.  I  'm  going  to  introduce  your  teacher. 
Long-lost-cousin-with-the-strawberry  mark,  this  is  Miss 
Elizabeth  Martin  of  Alms  House  College,  commonly 
known  as  Betty  Martin  !  " 

"Oh,  let  me  go  —  do  let  me  go!"  said  the  girl, 
struggling  till  the  crimson  flooded  her  pale  cheek.  "  It 
is  shameful  when  I  am  trying  to  do  my  best,  and  to  be 
as  kind  to  you  as  possible  !  " 

Hester  had  been  taking  off  her  gloves  in  a  kind  of 
daze.  But  now  something  in  the  girl's  tone  touched 
her.  She  seemed  to  comprcluiid  all  at  once.  She  went 
lo  145 


A   SOMEWHAT    WARMER   WELCOME 

forward  to  pull  the  table  back,  and  encountered  Master 
Stanhope  on  her  way. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  you  let  that  alone,  will  you,  Country  !  " 
he  said,  "you  've  got  nothing  to  do  with  us  —  yet.  If 
you  stay,  you  '11  have  plenty  though  !  " 

He  attempted  to  hold  Hester's  wrists.  But  he 
imagined  a  vain  thing  and  had  reckoned  altogether 
without  his  host.  Hester's  slender  young  body  did 
not  give  much  idea  of  strength,  but  the  flabby  boy, 
sleek  and  soft  with  sweetmeats  and  surreptitious  pasties, 
was  as  nothing  in  the  grip  of  one  who  for  years  had 
accompanied  the  minister  of  Saint  John  over  hill  and 
dale,  and  all  unbreathed  had  kept  pace  with  his  heather- 
step,  even  when  he  had  forgotten  himself  in  the  full 
blast  of  an  argument. 

So  Master  Stanhope  found  himself  as  calmly  set  to 
one  side  as  if  he  had  been  a  doll.  Lot,  a  girl  of  nine, 
pulled  as  vainly  at  Hester's  skirts,  and  Grubby,  whose 
age  was  seven,  rolled  on  the  floor  in  vain  attempts  to 
bite  Hester's  legs.  But  the  table  came  back  neverthe- 
less, and  Hester,  with  her  hat  still  on  her  head,  went 
forward  to  loosen  the  unfortunate  girl  from  the  armchair 
to  which  she  had  been  tied.  But  by  this  time  Master 
Stanhope  had  rallied,  and  now  once  more  flung  himself 
between  Hester  and  his  victim.  He  gave  the  former  a 
violent  push  on  the  chest,  but  the  girl,  accustomed  to 
the  quick  movements  of  animals  and  perfectly  at  home 
in  the  art  of  watching  your  opponent's  eye,  anticipated 
Stanhope,  and  with  a  step  aside  and  a  wrestler's  swinging 
grasp  upon  the  boy's  collar  landed  the  red-headed  youth 
with  his  back  to  the  schoolroom  wall. 

"  Oh,  I  say  —  you  let  Master  Stanhope  alone  !  **  cried 
Timson  from  the  door,  "you've  no  right  to  hinterfere, 

'aving  just  come " 

146 


A   SOMEWHAT    WARMER    WELCOME 

Hester  turned.  It  was  one  of  the  times  she  wished 
she  had  grown  quicker.  But  she  had  height  enough  for 
her  purpose,  and  there  was  something  on  her  face  which 
intimidated  Timson  as  much  as  if  he  had  found  a 
desperate  burglar  astride  the  plate-chest. 

"  I  seen  the  very  devil  look  out  of  that  wench's  eye, 
I  tell  you  !  "  he  said  afterwards  to  the  other  footman. 
"  She  '11  come  to  no  good,  that  un,  you  mark  my 
words  !  " 

"  Go  to  your  work  !  "  Hester  bade  him,  pointing  to 
the  door.  And  Timson  went,  muttering  something 
which  sounded  like  "  shall  hinform  her  ladyship,  that 
I  will !  " 

But  he  was  not  even  thanked  for  his  pains,  for  Master 
Stanhope  put  his  red  head  out  at  the  door  and  cried  after 
him,  "  Bullv  for  Country  —  served  you  right  for  sticking 
your  oar  in,  old  Straw-calves  !  " 

What  would  have  happened  after  that  it  is  difficult  to 
say.  Hester,  was  busy  unfastening  the  cords  from  the 
unhappy  governess's  ankles  when  a  loud  "Hem  — 
hem !  "  some  way  along  the  passage  announced  the 
approach  of  a  newcomer.  As  soon  as  Master  Stanhope 
heard  this,  he  seized  a  knife  which  lay  on  the  mantel- 
piece and  threw  himself  impetuously  at  Miss  Martin's 
feet.  In  a  moment  he  had  the  cords  cut,  gathered  up 
and  flung  into  a  corner.  In  the  same  space  of  time, 
which  passed  more  quickly  than  it  can  be  told,  Lot  and 
Grubbv  had  seated  themselves  at  the  long  ink-stained 
table,  while  Stanhope,  seizing  a  book  at  random  from  a 
shelf,  fairly  hurled  himself  into  the  chair  at  the  bottom 
of  the  table  and  became  desperately  absorbed  in  his 
studies,  his  brows  knit,  his  eyes  fixed,  and  the  fingers 
of  one  hand   making  riot   in   his   hair. 

The  weighty  tread  approached  slowly  along  the 
M7 


A   SOMEWHAT   WARMER    WELCOME 

passage.  They  were  the  kind  of  footsteps  which  go 
well  with  the  tune  of  "  See  the  conquering  hero  comes." 
They  seemed  to  bring  with  them  the  accompaniment  of 
rolling  drums.  Miss  Martin  had  only  time  somewhat 
hastily  to  run  her  fingers  over  her  roughened  hair,  and 
seat  herself  scholastically  at  the  table-head,  when  the 
door  opened,  and  Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling,  Bart., 
LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  &c.,  &c.,  entered  with  his  bland  smile, 
which  smile,  be  it  said,  had  the  unfortunate  peculiarity 
of  irritating  some  people.  ("  For  heaven's  sake,  let  the 
gentleman  take  that  smile  off"  his  face  before  I  answer 
him,"  a  rude  adversary  had  said  on  one  famous 
occasion.) 

"  Ah,"  said  the  great  man,  beaming  upon  all  in  the 
room,  "  diligence  is  always  pleasing  in  the  young  !  How 
do  you  do  —  Hester  Stirling,  is  it  not  ?  I  thought  so. 
I  hope  you  were  duly  met  at  the  station.  You  have,  I 
see,  already  made  the  acquaintance  of  our  youthful  hopes. 
I  trust  you  will  be  all  very  happy  together.  They  are 
good  children,  and  have  never  given  either  their  mother 
or  myself  one  moment's  uneasiness.  You  find  them  dili- 
gent, do  you  not,  Miss  Martin  ?  "  The  pale  governess 
bowed  silently  as  if  overcome  with  shyness  in  the  Pre- 
sence—  a  peculiarity  greatly  approved  by  Sir  Sylvanus. 
It  showed  so  much  good  sense  in  one  in  her  position. 

"  Ah,  Stanhope,  my  son,  what  is  that  you  are 
studying  ?  " 

Stanhope  made  a  curious  noise  in  his  throat.  The 
book  he  had  snatched  up  was  a  brown  leather-bound 
Bible,  much  affected  as  a  missile  in  the  schoolroom,  and 
the  red-headed  boy  held  it  upside  down.  He  had  been 
trying  to  get  a  chance  to  turn  it  all  the  while.  But 
he  felt  that  his  father's  eye  was  upon  him,  and  it  would 
not  do  to  be  caught  in  the  act. 

14S 


A    SOMEWHAT    WARMER   WELCOME 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  Speak  clearly,  sir,  if  you 
please  !  Remember  that  Sir  Gully  Grundy,  the  eminent 
Q^  C,  was  good  enough  to  say  that  I  myself  owed  no 
small  part  of  my  success  in  the  House  —  I  speak  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  my  dear  "  — this  condescendingly  to 
the  country  cousin,  who  would  not  be  expected  to  know 
such  things — *'Sir  Gully  Grundy,  a  great  orator  him- 
self, was  flattering  enough  to  say  that  the  clearness  of 
my  intonation  and  the  fine  quality  of  my  voice  carried 
me  through  where  other  men  would  have  failed.  So 
learn  to  speak  clearly,  my  boy.  And  now,  tell  me  what 
you  are  studying.  Ah  !  the  Bible  !  I  am  glad  to  see 
that.  Stanhope.  It  argues  well  for  your  future  that, 
coming  in  upon  you  thus  without  warning,  your  father 
should  find  his  children  of  their  own  accord  studying 
the  Scriptures.  I  shall  inform  your  mother  of  that  to- 
night and  she  will  rejoice  with  me.  But  what  part  of 
Holy  Writ  excites  your  curiosity,  my  son  ?  I  am  inter- 
ested to  find  out." 

So  would  Stanhope  have  been.  But  he  never  could 
read  tvpe  upside  down,  and  so  had  to  make  a  hit-or- 
miss  dash  for  it. 

"  The  Holy  Gospel  according  to  Ezra,"  he 
gulped. 

"  Wh — a — at  ?  "  gasped  his  father. 

"  Luke  !  "  whispered  Hester,  taking  pity. 

"Saint  Luke,  sir!"  said  Stanhope,  picking  his  words 
like  one  well  accustomed  to  the  operation. 

*' Let  me  sec,  sir!"  said  his  father,  who  was  some- 
what suspicious. 

Stanhope  gulped,  fumbled,  and  dropped  the  book. 
Hester,  who  was  standing  close  behind  the  boy's  chair, 
lifted  the  vf)lume  as  if  to  hand  it  to  Sir  Sylvanus,  and 
with  a  quick  mcjvenient,  learned  in  the  Kirk  of  St.  John, 

149 


A   SOMEWHAT    WARMER   WELCOME 

she  opened  it  at  the  Gospel  of  Luke,  the  next  moment 
presenting  it  open  to  the  baronet. 

"  Ah,  thank  you,  Hester,"  he  said ;  "  I  can  see  that 
you  have  already  won  the  affection  and  confidence  of 
your  young  charges  —  I  mean  companions." 

"  If  you  please,"  said  Hester,  quietly,  "I  am  a  little 
tired.      Might  I  go  up  to  my  own  room?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  said  Sylvanus,  with  a  smile ; 
"  we  will  doubtless  see  you  again  after  dinner.  I  will 
send  some  one  to  show  you  the  way  upstairs.  Au 
revoir^  my  dears.  Continue  your  studies  in  the  same 
spirit  in  which  you  have  begun,  and  you  will  be 
honoured  of  God  and  man  ;  also  you  will  receive  my 
approbation  !  " 

Sir  Sylvanus  passed  away  up  the  corridor,  appar- 
ently to  the  same  unheard  roll  of  martial  music.  A 
hush  of  silence  fell  on  the  schoolroom  which  lasted 
exactly  till  the  dull  and  resonant  sound  of  his  footsteps 
on  the  inlaid  wooden  floor  of  the  passage  had  been  ex- 
changed for  the  sharper  fall  of  boot-leather  upon  the 
tiles  in  the  outer  hall.  Then  pandemonium  broke 
loose.  Master  Stanhope  flung  the  leather  covered 
Bible  to  the  end  of  the  room,  carrying  with  it  an  ink- 
bottle  and  plentifully  bespattering  Miss  Charlotte  on 
the  way,  as  also  that  young  lady's  doll,  which  she  had 
been  concealing  on  her  lap  under  the  table  during  her 
father's  visit.  Angry  at  this  affront,  Lot  threw  herself 
upon  her  brother  and  pulled  his  hair — in  the  circum- 
stances an  unfortunate  method  of  assault,  for  her  own 
single  Gretchen  plait  was  much  better  adapted  for 
rude  seizure.  So  in  a  few  moments  she  was  reduced  to 
sulky  sobs  and  moody  shakes  of  the  head.  She  would 
tell  anybody  and  everybody.  She  would  be  revenged. 
Ha  !  ha  !     Just  wait ! 

ISO 


A   SOMEWHAT   WARMER    WELCOME 

Then  Stanhope  turned  his  attention  to  his  cousin. 
He  looked  at  her  now  with  a  kind  of  respect. 

"  Let 's  see  your  muscle,"  he  said  ;  "  you  must  be  a 
strong  'un !  Nothing  much  to  feel,"  he  commented, 
critically,  as  Hester  extended  the  part  of  her  body 
required.  "  But  it  must  be  jolly  whip-cordy  what  there 
is  of  it !  Say,  d  'ye  know  you  made  me  see  stars  when 
you  fetched  me  round  that  whopper  against  the  wall  ? 
she  has  got  none  at  all.  That  's  why  we  can  rot  her  so 
easy !  " 

The  young  gentleman  pointed  casually  at  Miss  Mar- 
tin, who  was  resignedly  gathering  up  the  books,  slates, 
pencils,  pens,  blotters,  which  were  scattered  round 
everywhere  and  restoring  them  to  some  kind  of  order 
on  the  shelves  that  filled  one  entire  side  of  the  room. 

Stanhope  watched  her  contemptuously. 

"  She  's  all  right,  but  has  got  no  savvy,"  he  remarked, 
exactly  as  if  Miss  Martin  had  been  deaf. 

"I  think^you  are  a  horrid  little  boy,"  Hester  began, 
indignantly,  "  and  if  I  had  anything  to  do  with  you  I 
would  teach  you  to  behave  differently  !  " 

"I  daresay  you  would,"  said  Stanhope,  calmly,  "but 
then  you  see  you  ain't  old  Betty  Martin.  I  say,  though, 
it  was  very  decent  of  you  not  to  split  to  the  Bart.  And 
you  got  me  out  of  that  hole  about  Ezra  as  smart  as  if 
you   had   been  Tony   Gibbons  !  " 

"  And  who  is  Tony  Gibbons  ?  "  said  Hester,  who  was 
very  tired,  but  who  had  no  idea  of  allowing  the  fact  to 
appear. 

"  Tony  Gibbons  is  my  school-pal.  He  is  a  wonder,  I 
tell  you,  and  has  the  loveliest  terriers  —  I  mean  tarriers!'* 

"  If  you  please,  miss,  I  was  to  show  you  to  your 
room,"  the  voice  came-  to  the  car  of  Hester  as  from  a 
great  height. 


A    SOMEWHAT   WARMER    WELCOME 

"  Hey,"  cried  Stanhope,  rushing  at  a  middle-aged 
woman  who  filled  up  the  doorway,  "  here 's  old  Biddy 
Barker.      How  do,  Barker  ?      Come  and  dance." 

<'  You  may  see  me  dance  the  polka  ! 
You  may  see  me  whirling  round  ; 
You  may  see  my  coat-tails  flying " 


he  sang  to  no  tune  in  particular. 

And  before  the  stout  and  dignified  woman  could  pro- 
test the  red-headed  imp  of  mischief  had  seized  her  by 
the  waist,  or  rather  by  as  much  of  it  as  his  arm  could 
encircle.  The  next  instant  the  two  were  spinning 
round  the  room,  colliding  freely  and  solidly  with  book- 
shelves, desks,  and  chairs,  besides  sending  Grubby 
howling  into  a  corner  by  a  resounding  whack  on  the 
ear,  bestowed  by  Master  Stanhope  in  pure  affection  and 
levity  of  spirits. 

"Muster  Stan'ope  —  sir  —  I  will  not  endoore  sich 
conduck  !  "  cried  the  old  dame,  breathlessly,  when  the 
whirl  ceased ;  "  your  lady  mother  shall  know  of  this 
indignity  before  I  am   an  hour  older." 

"  If  you  tell,  Biddy,"  retorted  the  red-headed  boy, 
"  as  sure  as  I  live  I  will  write  for  the  certificate  of  your 
birth  and  give  it  to  the  coachman.  He  only  wants 
your  money  anyway.  '  Why,  it 's  like  keepin'  company 
with  your  bloomin'  grandmother ! '  he  said  to  me  one 
day  !  " 

"  Figgis  never  said  no  sich  imperence,"  said  the  lady, 
resettling  her  hair  and  dress.  "  He  is  a  most  respect- 
able man  and  careful  of  his  words.  And  as  for  you. 
Master  Stanhope,  the  birch  does  not  grow  that  would 
make  you  speak  the  truth " 

"  No,  but  the  cane  does,"  cried  a  new  voice  from 
the    doorway,    as    a    stoutish,    silk-hatted    young    man, 


A    SOMEWHAT   WARMER   WELCOME 

round-faced  and  ruddy,  rather  over-dressed  and  over- 
buttoned  as  to  surtout,  but  with  a  good-humoured  ex- 
pression  on   his  countenance,  entered   briskly. 

"  What 's  up  ?  "  he  cried.  "  By  Jove,  who  's  this  ? 
Why,  little  Hester,  how  you  've  grown !  Shake 
hands !  " 

It  was  Tom  Stirling,  up  from  college,  and  grown 
into  a  fine  young  man  about  town.  He  had  just  come 
in  from  airing  his  latest  stick  and  lavender  gloves  on 
the  most  suitable  and  fashionable  pavements. 

Hester  extended  her  hand  and  looked  him  straight  in 
the  eyes. 

"  Come  for  good  ?  "  he  asked,  cheerfully. 

She  sighed  as  she  nodded.  The  dear  old  white- 
washed manse  by  the  water  of  Darroch  appeared  very 
far  off  to-night.  It  did  not  seem  as  if  she  could  ever 
get  back  there  again. 

*'  Going  to  get  your  things  off  and  tittivate  a  bit, 
eh  ?  So  long,  see  you  at  dinner  ?  "  cried  Tom,  jovially. 
"  See  and  get  her  down  in  time.  Barker  !  " 

"  Master —  I  mean  Mr.  Tom  )"  It 's  as  well  you  do. 
Barker,"  from  Tom),  this  young  lady  (the  personnel 
of  the  house  in  Empress  Gate  had  great  difficulty  in 
uttering  the  substantive  when  they  spoke  of  Hester)  is 
to  take  supper  in  the  schoolroom.  There  is  some  of 
Miss  Ethel's  friends  dining  to-night  !  " 

"  What  a  dashed  shame  !  And  what  rotten  cheek  of 
Eth  !  I  won't  have  it.  If  my  cousin  dines  in  this  old 
hole,  hang  it,  I  will,  too,  I  like  Eth's  impudence,  and 
the  mater  does  just  vvh:it  that  girl  says.  I  '11  see  about 
it!" 

Whereupon  Tom  dashed  upstairs,  taking  the  steps 
three  at  a  time.  As  he  went  he  communed  with 
himself,  and  Hester  was  the  subject  of  his  meditation. 

153 


A   SOMEWHAT    WARMER   WELCOME 

"  Not  pretty,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  no,  not  in  the 
least  pretty  —  too  angular  and  flat.  And  yet  I  don't 
know;  she  is  jolly,  and  there  is  something  about  her 
eyes  when  she  looks  at  you.  Well,  it 's  a  sight  better 
than  having  Vic  away,  and  nothing  but  these  beasts 
of  Ethel's  about  the  place.  1  '11  have  a  headache  and 
dine  in  the  schoolroom  to-night !  " 

So  Hester  was  not  wholly  alone.  Even  on  her  first 
night  in  the  great  city  she  had  achieved  one  ally  in  the 
house  in  Empress  Gate,  and  that  no  unimportant  one 
—  at  least  in  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Thomas  Alistair 
Torphichan-Stirling. 


154 


CHAPTER   XIX 

MY  LORD  DARROCH  TALKS  BUSINESS 

CARUS  DARROCH  steadily  confronted  his  father 
in  the  business-room  at  Darroch  Castle.  He 
came  but  seldom  into  the  presence  of  Lord 
Darroch,  save  at  meal-times,  or  when  he  had  been 
specially  sent  for,  as  on  the  present  occasion.  Father 
and  son  had  absolutely  nothing  in  common  save  name 
and  race,  and  for  the  most  part  they  were  content  to 
meet  without  gladness  and  part  without  regret. 

Carus  spent  much  of  his  time  with  a  book  about  the 
woods,  or  out  on  the  moors  of  heather  with  a  seldom- 
discharged  gun  under  his  arm,  and  a  favourite  author 
in  his  pocket.  He  had  been  born  at  the  tall  old  castle 
which  sat  so  proudly  on  its  eminence  at  the  head  of  the 
loch.  So  the  burns  and  scaurs  of  Glencairn,  the  pebbly 
beaches  and  lily-studded  shores  of  Loch  Darroch  were 
as  part  of  his  own  life. 

His  father,  the  present  Lord  Darroch,  had  but  two 
aims  when  he  visited  the  Strath,  the  first  being  to  get 
as  much  money  as  he  could  obtain  from  farmers  and 
agents,  and,  this  being  accomplished  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  cajolings  and  coaxings — or,  as  it  might  be,  of 
oaths  and  curses,  —  to  get  himself  as  rapidly  and  as 
swiftly   away  as   possible. 

Lord  Darroch  considered  the  universe  as  made 
specially  for  his  gratification.  To  this  rule  there  could 
be  no  exceptions.  He  had  impressed  it  on  his  wife  so 
completely   that,   after   giving    birth    to    Carus,  she   had 

»55 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

first  of  all  betaken  herself  back  to  her  mother,  the 
Duchess  of  Niddisdale,  and  presently,  discovering  no 
claim  or  hold  upon  life,  yet  farther  —  to  the  place  of 
all  unfulfilled  hopes  and  wasted  fives.  The  Duchess 
considered  this  very  weak,  as  doubtless  it  was.  She 
herself  would  probably  have  first  horse-whipped  Lord 
Darroch,  and  then  brought  a  suit  against  him  in  the 
proper  court.  But  she  could  not  inspire  the  same  deter- 
minate course  of  action  in  the  Lady  Sophia. 

"  I  always  told  Niddisdale  it  would  turn  out  so,"  she 
said.  "  What  can  you  do  with  a  person  who  has  no 
pride,  and  who  is  named  Sophia  ?  " 

Lord  Darroch  had  come  all  the  way  from  Paris  in 
order  to  have  this  interview  with  his  son.  He  might 
have  sent  for  Carus  to  come  to  him  there,  indeed,  but 
with  the  squeamishness  of  such  parents  he  did  not  want 
Carus  in  Paris.  And  besides,  there  were  various  other 
"  birds "  connected  with  the  cutting  of  wood  and  the 
mortgaging  of  some  remaining  morsels  of  free  property, 
that  he  hoped  to  kill  with  the  selfsame  stone. 

So,  on  the  morning  after  his  arrival,  he  installed  him- 
self in  the  high-backed  chair  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
business-room,  from  which  his  own  father  had  often 
risen  to  flog  him,  and  sent  the  butler  to  summon  Carus 
to  the  momentous  interview.  Of  the  two.  Lord 
Darroch  was  by  a  great  deal  the  more  nervous.  Yet 
Carus  had  known  that  there  was  something  in  the  wind, 
as  soon  as  his  father  came  in  the  night  before.  He  had 
given  his  son  a  greeting  more  than  usually  effusive,  and 
helped  him  to  wine  with  a  vast  deal  of  pleasantness  and 
good  comradeship. 

But  Carus  Darroch  knew  his  father  well  enough  to 
be  aware  that  this  bonhomie  was  merely  assumed  for  a 
purpose,  and  what   that   was  he   guessed    more  or   less 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

accurately.  Lord  Darroch  was  a  man  who  at  one  time 
of  his  lite,  when  the  "  smart  set  "  of  the  period  was 
less  invaded  by  millionaire  proteges  of  royalty  than  at 
present,  had  made  a  certain  figure  in  life  as  a  young 
fellow  of  expensive  tastes  and  a  dashing  manner  of 
gratifying  them.  And  now,  when  he  was  threescore, 
he  still  endeavoured,  with  straitened  means  and  the 
most  perfect  of  valets,  to  hide  from  himself  and  others 
that  he  was  anything  else. 

His  wig  was  a  marvel  of  clustering  (and  yet  not  too 
clustering)  raven  locks,  with  the  least  artistic  touch  of 
decorous  gray  at  the  temples,  which  only  a  master  could 
have  allowed  himself.  But  then  it  was  the  pride  of 
Silas  Clark  and  Sons  that,  when  allowed  to  do  their 
best  without  regard  to  cost,  they  sent  a  man  to  study 
their  subject  for  a  month  before  putting  so  much  as  the 
foundation  upon  the  block.  Well-preserved  was  not 
the  name  for  Lord  Darroch.  He  was  perfectly  pre- 
served—  fresh  as  if  he  had  been  packed  in  ice  every 
night  and  unpacked  by  his  valet  in  the  morning. 

"  Good  morning,  Carus,"  said  his  lordship  from  the 
chair  of  state,  bending  graciously  towards  his  son,  "  do 
you  take  anything  so  early  in  the  day  ?  I  suppose  not. 
Boys  like  you  never  ought  to  need  a  fillip  in  the 
morning.  Peach  brandy  is  a  good  thing,  though,  if 
you  have  no  fear  of  gout.  I  recommend  peach  brandy. 
No  ?  Well  then,  let  us  talk  business.  I  have  come  a 
long  way  to  do  it,  Carus,  my  boy.  But  I  could  not 
bear  to  bring  you  away  from  the  country  at  this  season 
of  the  year,  and  perhaps  I  had  a  desire  to  look  at  the 
old  place  once  more." 

Carus  bowed  silently,  and  sat  down,  regarding  his 
father  with  the  quiet,  grave  attention  which  the  elder 
always  felt  to  be  a  little  disconcerting. 

157 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

"  Well,  my  boy,"  said  Lord  Darroch,  "  you  are  twenty- 
one —  you  have  been  through  college  with  the  best. 
You  have  taken  your  degree,  which  there  was  not  the 
least  necessity  for  you  to  do.  You  have  had  your  send- 
ofF — a  first-class  coming-of-age  dinner,  good  speeches 
as  ever  I  heard  —  and  capital  verses  that  poet  fellow 
recited  in  your  honour  !  Now  I  want  to  know  what  you 
are  going  to  do.  It 's  too  late  to  think  of  the  army,  I 
suppose,  but  you  could  easily  get  a  commission  in  the 
Militia.  You  could  do  a  little  toy  soldiering  —  a  pretty 
uniform  goes  a  deuced  long  way,  I  can  tell  you,  and  I 
was  in  the  Guards.  The  girls  like  it,  and  you  may 
marry  a  pretty  one  as  well  as  a  rich  one.  Which  last 
you  must  do  in  any  case.  But,  hang  it,  that 's  what  I 
always  say  —  when  a  fellow  is  any  catch,  he  can  get  a 
pretty  rich  girl  just  as  easy  as  an  ugly  one." 

"  There  is  no  need  to  think  about  that  yet,  sir,  I 
think,"  said  Carus,  smiling. 

"  Never  too  soon  to  think  about  it,  when  it 's  got 
to  be  done,"  rejoined  his  lordship,  "or  to  'go  where 
money  is,'  as  somebody  or  other  said.  Well,  about  your 
future  ?  " 

"  I  had  thought,  sir,  of  reading  law,  and  by-and-by 
writing  a  little,  if  I  have  the  ability,"  said  Carus, 
modestly. 

"  Tut  —  tut,  what  does  a  man  want  with  scribbling 
for  a  few  pence,  when  he  will  have  a  title,  and  one  of 
the  oldest  in  Scotland  ?  Reading  law  is  all  right.  The 
more  you  get  up  about  that,  the  better  you  will  know 
how  to  raise  the  wind  when  your  time  comes.  By  the 
way,  speaking  of  law,  it  was  a  matter  of  that  kind 
which  brought  me  here.  I  have  waited  till  you  were 
twenty-one  in  order  to  speak  freely  with  you.  It  is  this. 
The  Glen  Sorn  estate  does  not  lie  well  to  the  rest  of 

158 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

the  Darroch  property.  It  is  chiefly  arable  land,  and 
contains  no  considerable  moors  worth  shooting  over. 
It  is  badly  burdened.  Now,  there  has  come  along  an 
orterer  for  it  who  is  willing  to  give  a  fancy  price,  and  I 
have  determined  to  sell.  We  shall  never  get  another 
such  offer." 

"  But,  sir,  is  the  Glen  Sorn  estate  not  a  good  two- 
thirds  of  all  the  property  —  in  rental  at  least  —  and  is 
it  not  strictly  entailed  ?  " 

Lord  Darroch  bit  his  lip  and  was  silent  a  full  minute, 
while  he  controlled  his  temper.  Then  he  rose,  took  his 
son's  arm  and  stepped  to  the  window. 

"  Look,"  he  said,  and  the  young  man's  eyes  swept 
from  verge  to  verge  of  bounding  horizon.  Dark,  heathy 
mountains  extended  far  to  the  west.  Rolling  moorland, 
purple  and  yellow  and  brown,  undulated  along  the  east 
in  great  waves  that  never  broke,  and  to  the  north  rose 
the  deep-bosomed  green  hills  of  Windy  Standard. 

"Two-thirds,  you  say,  and  yet  all  that  would  be 
left  ?  Hampering  debts  would  be  cleared,  and,  if  that 
is  any  matter  to  you,  your  father  made  a  free  and  happy 
man." 

Then  he  led  the  }oung  man  to  the  other  window, 
which  looked  down  the  Loch  of  Darroch.  Blue  and 
calm,  scarcely  fluttered  by  a  passing  breath,  it  stretched 
beneath,  mile  beyond  gleaming  mile.  White  farm- 
houses nestled  upon  either  side.  The  fields  about  were 
golden  and  green,  and  the  pastures  nearer  at  hand  were 
dotted  white  with  sheep,  that  looked  no  bigger  than 
gowans,  so  high  towered  Darroch  Castle  on  its  hill, 

"All  these  would  be  left.  Surely  a  few  turnip  fields 
over  in  Glen  Sorn  w(nild  not  be  a  great  price  to  pay  for 
a  father's  blessing,  and  the  knowledge  that  you  have 
given  him  new  life." 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

Lord  Darroch  went  slowly  back  and  sat  down  in  his 
chair,  while  his  son  stood  a  moment  longer  at  the  win- 
dow, before  turning  and  saying  quietly,  "What  would 
you  have  me  do,  father  ?  " 

The  elder  looked  up  hopefully.  He  had  not  heard 
his  son  speak  so  affectionately  for  a  long  time.  He 
congratulated  himself  on  the  success  of  his  appeal, 
which  he  had  carefully  thought  out  upon  his  northward 
journey. 

"  I  would  ask  you  to  join  me  in  breaking  the  vexa- 
tious entail  on  the  Glen  Sorn  property,"  he  said,  looking 
steadily  at  Carus,  "  Mark  —  I  do  not  mean  without 
safeguarding  your  own  interests.  Indeed  the  courts 
would  most  certainly  see  to  that.  A  part  of  the  price, 
and  probably  a  large  part,  would  be  set  aside  for  you  — 
invested  in  good  securities,  that  is  !  " 

"  I  presume  that  in  making  this  proposal,"  said  the 
young  master  of  Darroch,  "  you  have  considered  the 
terms  of  my  mother's  marriage  settlement  ?  " 

Lord  Darroch's  eyebrows  rose  a  full  half-inch  with  that 
haughty  lift  which  is  only  seen  on  the  faces  of  irascible 
men  when  they  find  themselves  unexpectedly  cornered. 

"  I  have,"  he  answered,  with  a  quick,  ugly  look,  and 
something  like  a  snarl  in  his  tone,  "  or  I  should  not  be 
here  asking  your  consent.  But  how  are  you  so  glib 
concerning  marriage  settlements  ?  Have  you  begun  to 
read  law  already  ?  Who  has  been  talking  to  you,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  My  grandmother  showed  me  a  copy  of  it  the  last 
time  I  was  at  Dalveen,"  said  Carus,  quietly. 

My  lord  muttered  a  malediction  upon  her  Grace  of 
Niddisdale  between  his  clenched  teeth. 

"  I  thought  it  was  the  old  harridan  who  had  put  you 
up  to  all  this.      You  refuse  your  consent,  then  ?  " 

i6o 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

"  I  have  not  said  so,"  said  Carus,  still  more  quietly. 

"  But  you  mean  to  say  it  !  (^uick,  out  with  it  —  aye 
or  no  !  None  of  your  dashed  philosophical  melan- 
cholies with   me  !      I   want  to  know   my   friends !  " 

"  I  certainly  have  seen  no  adequate  reason  for 
giving  my  consent  to  what,  once  done,  would  be  ir- 
revocable, and  might  gravely  prejudice  not  only  myself, 
but  those  who  may  come  after  me  !  " 

His  lordship  rose  up  in  furious  anger. 

"Then  I  will  do  it  without  you,  and  in  a  way  you 
may  like  even  less.  If  you  do  not  give  me  your  consent 
to  this  arrangement,  and  in  addition  consent  to  marry  a 
daughter  of  my  friend,  Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stir- 
ling,  I  will  see  to  it,  sir,  that  you  succeed  to  a  worthless 
estate.  Not  a  penny  of  money,  not  a  farmhouse  that 
will  not  need  to  be  rebuilt  before  a  tenant  will  live  in 
it,  not  a  stick  of  wood  thicker  than  my  little  finger 
from  one  end  of  the  property  to  the  other  !  Now  you 
have  heard,- sir,  and  what  I  say,  I  will  do  !  " 

"Is  Sir  Sylvanus  the  customer  you  proposed  for  Glen 
Sorn,  sir  ?  "  said  Carus,  with  the  least  touch  of  weary 
scorn  in  his  voice. 

"  And  if  he  is,  sir,  what  is  that  to  you  ?  Is  his  money 
not  as  good  as  any  one  else's  ?  "  cried  my  lord,  white 
with  the  very  intensity  of  his  passion. 

*'  So  you  propose  to  sell  your  estate  to  the  father  and 
your  heir  to  the  daughter,"  said  Carus.  "Well,  sir,  I 
will  be  a  party  to  neither  transaction  !  " 

"  You  infernal  young  puppy  !  "  cried  Lord  Darroch, 
stamping  with  anger,  and  then,  suddenly  stopping,  he 
picked  up  the  foot  in  one  hand  as  the  action  sent  a 
twinge  of  agony   through   his  great  toe. 

He  limped  to  his  chair,  furiously  threw  himself  into 
it,  and  leaned  back. 

II  i6i 


LORD     DARROCH     TALKS     BUSINESS 

"  Now,  listen  to  me,  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  give  you  a 
year  in  which  to  come  to  your  senses.  Few  fathers 
would  be  so  generous.  You  shall  have  four  quarterly 
allowances,  and  then,  by  heaven,  you  can  fend  for  your- 
self. If,  however,  you  like  to  be  reasonable,  come  to 
town  next  week,  and  I  will  introduce  you  to  Sir 
Sylvanus  and  his  daughters.  If  not  —  why,  go  to  the 
devil  your  own  way.  I  will  have  no  more  to  say  to 
you  ! " 


162 


CHAPTER    XX 

HER  GRACE  OF  NIDDISDALE 

CARUS  did  go  to  London,  but  it  was  by  way  of 
Dalveen.  He  found  her  Grace  the  Duchess  of 
Niddisdale  in  her  rose  garden.  She  was  a  tall, 
powerful  frame  of  a  woman  who,  though  over  seventy, 
still  carried  herself  like  a  grenadier,  and  showed  her  age 
far  less  than  her  perfectly  preserved  son-in-law. 

As  was  her  custom  when  in  the  country,  her  Grace 
was  equipped  with  a  hat  shaped  like  a  Chinese  um- 
brella, the  brim  of  which  came  down  nearly  to  her 
shoulders.  It  was,  however,  tilted  well  back  from  her 
strong,  capable,  masculine  face.  Her  dress  was  of 
stout  dust-ct)loured  calico,  such  as  no  one  of  the  house- 
maids of  Dalveen  Castle  would  have  done  their  morn- 
ing's dusting  in.  The  Duchess's  slight  but  quite 
perceptible  grey  moustache  had  a  top-dressing  of  red 
earth,  and  in  her  hands  there  were  the  trident  and 
"spud"  used  by  gardeners  for  applying  fertilising 
materials  to  the  roots  of  rosebushes  and  other  plants 
in  need  of  nourishment.  This  nutriment  was  also 
present  in  a  barrow.  And  a  gardener,  well  accus- 
tomed to  his  mistress's  ways,  and  too  well  bred  to  smile 
at  them,  was  receiving  a  practical  demonstration  as  to 
his  business  from  the  Duchess's  own  gracious  lips. 

Hut  scarcely  had  he  begun  to  carry  out  her  instruc- 
tions—  indeed,  before  he  had  been  a  minute  at  work 
—  the  "spud"  and  "graip"  were  snatched  from  him, 
as    he    had    expected.      An    aristocratic    heel,   concealed 

163 


HER     GRACE     OF     NIDDISDALE 

in  a  huge  "  tacketty "  boot,  laced  half-way  up  the 
leg,  was  driving  in  the  prongs  of  the  "  graip,"  and  a 
plant  was  receiving  food  in  the  only  proper  way  from 
the  hands  of  her  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Niddisdale. 

"  Hello,  Carus,  what  wind  blew  you  here  ?  I  wish 
to  heaven  it  did  not  blow  from  that  wheelbarrow  to  my 
nose — but  it  is  good  stuff  for  all  that  !  I  saw  it  mixed 
myself.  Did  you  ever  study  the  theory  and  application 
of  court  manures,  Carus  ?  Just  move  the  barrow  a 
yard  to  leeward,  will  you?  No?  Whatever  did  you 
spend  your  time  on  in  college  ?  You  can  go,  Thomson. 
The  Master  of  Darroch  will  assist  me  !  Now  tell  me 
all  your  news.  What  mischief  has  the  Old  Adam  been 
hatching  now  ? " 

For  it  was  by  this  name  that  this  most  unconven- 
tional of  Duchesses  was  in  the  habit  of  referring  to  her 
son-in-law. 

"  Let  me  help  you,  grandmother  ! "  said  Carus,  offer- 
ing to  take  the  spud  and  graip  out  of  her  hands. 

"  You  !  "  cried  her  Grace,  highly  astonished  at  his 
daring ;  "  faith  you  might  be  acquainted  with  all  the 
Georgics  of  Virgil  and  yet  not  be  able  to  shovel  dung 
to  my  satisfaction.  Do  ye  really  think,  Carus,  that  what 
I  cannot  trust  John  Tamson  to  do,  I  would  lippen  to  a 
callant  like  you  ?  " 

So  with  Carus  at  the  "  trams "  of  the  wheelbarrow, 
and  the  Duchess  feeding  the  roots  of  her  roses  as 
daintily  as  if  they  had  been  sick  canary  birds,  the  tale  of 
Glen  Sorn  was  told. 

"  What  did  I  tell  ye  ?  "  cried  her  Grace,  setting  a 
hand  on  her  hip  in  the  attitude  of  a  fishwife  resting 
her  creels  against  a  railing  while  she  "  redds "  up  a 
friend's  character  over  the  way.  "  I  think  I  hear  him 
—  *  your  interests'  —  'safeguards'  —  'burdens' !     Truly 

164 


HER     GRACE     OF     NIDDISDALE 

the  devil  in  the  form  of  a  serpent  hath  entered  into  the 
Old  Adam.  But  I  am  no  gumptionless  Eve,  that  he 
should  beguile  me.  The  burdens  he  put  on  himself — 
'your  interest,'  forsooth,  when  all  this  is  just  that  he 
may  get  ten  thousand  to  squander  on  besoms  like  "  — 
(here  her  Grace  entered  into  unnecessary  detail.) 
"  And  that  for  his  threats,  Carus."  (Here  the  Duchess 
snapped  her  loamy  ringers.)  "There  's  aye  as  much  as 
will  feather  a  nest  in  the  auld  wife's  sock,  Carus  —  and 
Niddisdale  has  no  need  thereof.  (Where  are  ye  with 
that  barrow  ?)  " 

"  But  what  would  you  advise  me  to  do  first,  grand- 
mother ?  *'  said  Carus,  keeping  his  eye  on  the  work 
before  him. 

"  Get  another  fill  from  John  Tamson,"  said  the 
Duchess  of  Niddisdale,  "  and  when  I  have  done  this 
last  row,  I  '11  get  peace  and  ease  to  cast  my  mind  over 
the  latest  writhings  of  the  serpent,  the  Old  Adam  !  " 

This  was  not  exactly  teaching  the  young  man  to 
observe  the  first  commandment  with  promise,  but  the 
old  lady  owned  no  bridle  for  her  tongue.  And  to  do 
her  justice,  she  would  have  spoken  to  the  full  as  frankly 
in  the  very  face  of  my  Lord  Darroch  himself  and, 
moreover,  have  been  most  grateful  for  the  opportunity. 

After  she  had  cleansed  her  hands  and  given  a  per- 
functory dabble  to  her  face  at  the  stop-cock  of  a  garden 
watering-pipe,  she  called  out  "  Have  ye  a  napkin, 
Carus  ?  "  Carus  instantly  plucked  one  from  his  pocket 
and  gravely  presented  it  to  his  grandmother. 

She  rubbed  her  large-featured  good-humoured  face 
with  it,  and  as  she  finished  off  by  polishing  her  hands, 
she  took  up  the  burden  of  her  prophecy. 

"  It  has  been  in  my  mind,  Carus,  that  ye  were  in 
danger    of    becoming    somewhat    ovcrcarcful    and    per- 

'65 


HER     GRACE     OF     NIDDISDALE 

nicketty.  But  I  have  hopes  of  you  yet,  for  this  is  a 
good  stieve  linen  napkin,  none  of  your  flimsy  lace  and 
cambric  that  make  the  young  men  of  the  day  like  Aholah 
and  Aholibah,  that  painted  their  eyelids  and  decked  them 
with  ornaments  and  other  apparel ! 

"  As  for  the  apothecary's  daughter,  Carus,  this  is  what 
I  tell  you,  go  —  look  —  see!  That  is  neither  here  nor 
there.  They  cannot  tie  ye  to  a  bed-post  and  marry  ye 
with  your  will  or  against  your  will,  as  the  Faas  wedded 
their  wives.  And  for  what  should  a  lass  the  less  or 
more  fright  a  brave  young  man  like  you,  laddie  ?  " 

*'  But,"  urged  Carus,  "  I  flared  up,  and  told  my 
father  that  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  either 
entail-breaking  or  wife.  Am  I  to  go  back  to  my  father 
with  a  finger  in  my  mouth  !  " 

*'  Flared  up,  did  ye  ?  "  cried  her  Grace,  indignantly, 
"  it  would  have  been  telling  you,  lad,  if  ye  had  flared 
up  oftener  and  higher  —  as  high  as  Etna  and  as  often 
as  —  your  grandmother!  Nor  do  ye  need  to  gang  back 
with  any  finger  in  your  mouth.  What  for  need  ye  to 
be  beholden  to  the  Old  Adam  to  introduce  ye  to  the 
lass  ?  She  comes  of  as  good  blood  as  yourself  on  the 
*  woman'  side  of  the  shilling.  And  when  ye  are  think- 
ing of  marrying,  that  is  the  only  one  to  be  considered. 
If  she  be  like  Isobel  Stirling  of  Arioland,  she  will  be 
worth  kissing  by  daylight.  She  was  a  beauty  in  the 
year  '30  —  I  mean  '50  —  and  my  very  good  friend.  I 
married  poor  Niddisdale,  and  she  a  decent  bonnet  laird, 
but  neither  of  us  was  the  better  or  the  worse  for  that. 
Aye,  good  friends  we  were  till  the  day  of  her  death,  as 
when  we  skelpit  it  over  the  braes  barefoot  and  bareleg, 
wild  as  colts  turned  out  to  the  hill." 

So  after  this  fashion  her  Grace  of  Niddisdale  coun- 
selled   her  grandson  with  the  wisdom  of  an  expert  in 

1 66 


HER     GRACE     OF     NIDDISDALE 

affairs  and  a  woman  of  the  world.  Carus  had  always 
been  a  favourite  with  her,  and  whenever  he  rode  over 
from  Darroch  on  his  chestnut,  his  grandmother  used  to 
look  at  him  and  say,  "  Ye  should  be  clothed  in  blue  silk, 
my  young  Assyrian  captain  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  that,  grandmother  ?  "  the  boy 
would  ask. 

Then  the  old  lady  would  sigh  a  little  and  answer, 
"  Aye  me,  and  the  days  that  were  —  the  days  that  were  ! 
But  it  shall  not  be  an  auld  wife's  fault  if  ye  be  not 
clothed  in  scarlet  and  other  devices  —  which,  being 
interpreted,  means  that  ye  shall  have  the  wherewithal  to 
have  your  fling  like  every  other  proper  lad.  May  I  be 
there  to  see  !  And  I  shall  also  give  you  advice  upon 
the  best  kinds  of  fling  —  very  judicious  advice,  too  !  " 

"  Why  are  you  so  kind  to  me,  grandmother  ?  " 

"  Ah,  laddie,"  she  would  reply,  "  and  that  is  a  long 
story.  It  has  been  my  blessing  or  my  bane  (I  ken  not 
wh'ich)  all  rpy  life  to  have  a  soft  side  for  desirable  young 
gentlemen  of  Assyria,  riding  upon  horses  !  " 

"  Is  that  why  you  gave  mc  that  chestnut  mare, 
grandmother  ?  " 

"  May  be,  Carus  lad,  may  be." 

"  Did  my  grandfather  ride  much  when  he  was  a 
young  man  ?  " 

"  Him  !  "  (The  Duchess  gazed  a  moment  at  Carus 
with  a  kind  of  lofty  surprise.)  "Ye  didna  surely  think 
I  was  meaning  my  poor  dear  Niddisdale.  Nay,  Carus, 
nay  —  the  pleasant  young  men  clad  in  blue  had  long 
done  with  their  riding  before  he  came  on  the  scene. 
But  that  minds  me.  Ye  have  an  objection  to  taking 
an  observation  of  this  apothecary's  daughter?  Now, 
there  is  only  one  objection  in  a  young  man's  mind 
which   can   excuse    him    from   desiring  to   visit   a    pretty 

167 


HER     GRACE     OF     NIDDISDALE 

girl.  And  that,  of  course,  is,  that  he  shall  first  be  in 
love  with  another.  Are  you  in  love,  Carus  ?  Out 
with  it,  lad.  I  shall  certainly  think  none  the  less  of 
you  for  it.  Who  is  Georgiana  Niddisdale  that  she 
should  ?  " 

"On  my  honour,  no,  grandmother !  " 

"So  much  the  better  —  as  far  as  the  apothecary's 
daughters  are  concerned.  Go  and  see  how  the  lass 
takes  ye,  Carus!  Mind,  it's  no  altogether  beauty, 
though  that  some  men  count  all  the  law  and  the  pro- 
phets. I  never  was  what  you  would  call  a  beauty  my- 
self—  yet  —  well,  I  have  not  come  to  the  threescore  year 
(and  a  pickle)  to  begin  to  complain  now  !  But  if  ye  are 
looking  for  a  wife,  Carus,  choose  ye  the  woman  ye 
would  like  to  keep  ye  company  through  a  month's  rainy 
weather  in  the  Isle  o'  Mull !  " 


i68 


CHAPTER   XXI 

THE    FOUR    WORLDS    OF    EMPRESS    GATE 

AT  the  age  of  twenty-four  years  and  under,  the 
Torphichan-Stirling  girls  had  enough  beauty 
and  money  to  be  attractive  to  three-fourths 
of  mankind,  enough  sense  to  be  tolerable  to  the  other 
quarter,  and  —  what  was  doubtless  a  chief  factor  in 
rendering  the  house  in  Empress  Gate  an  agreeable 
resort  —  the  tact  to  keep  their  father  and  mother  in  the 
background  without  appearing  to  do  so. 

By  almost  universal  acclamation  Ethel  was  allowed  to 
be  the  beauty  of  the  trio.  Victoria  was  a  fine,  handsome 
girl  of  the  more  dashing  sort.  But  that  type  had  not  yet 
fullv  come  in,  along  with  the  decay  of  lawn-tennis  and 
the  apotheosis  of  golf.  Claudia  —  well,  Claudia  sat  in 
corners,  and  it  was  pleasant  enough  to  sit  in  corners 
also  —  when  you  could  not  get  Ethel,  Indeed,  Claudia, 
on  her  own  merits,  was  as  yet  no  more  than  the 
snapper-up  of  Ethel's  unconsidered  trifles.  But  for  all 
that,  the  youngest  Miss  Torphichan-Stirling  was  the 
cleverest  of  the   three  by   a   very  great   deal. 

Devoted  to  her  elder  sister  as  Claudia  apparently  was, 
she  secretly  aspired  to  quite  another  role.  She  believed 
from  an  early  age  that  knowledge  is  power,  and  she  had 
studied  under  several  able  instructresses. 

She  knew  how  to  sting  a  dull  man  by  a  whip  cracked 
over  his  vanity,  how  to  astonish  a  clever  one  by  an 
unexpected  quip,  generally  at  the  expense  of  another 
woman,   or  h(jw   to   draw   on    a   reluctant    cavalier  by   a 

i6y 


FOUR    WORLDS   OF    EMPRESS    GATE 

bold  sally.  Then  she  had  taught  Ethel  a  code  of 
signals.  She  would  come  in  or  go  out,  according  to 
the  lift  of  Ethel's  eyelids,  or  telegraph  to  her  helio- 
graph-fashion, by  the  merest  flutter  of  a  fan.  She 
knew  when  her  sister  desired  to  move  in  the  direction 
of  the  conservatory,  and  when  she  was  to  interpose 
with  a  problem  in  macrame-work.  But  all  the  while 
Claudia  was  playing  her  own  game,  and  playing 
it  well. 

"  When  Ethel  goes  —  well,  there  will  only  be  me. 
Vic  is  a  rank  outsider,  and  father  is  getting  richer  all 
the  time  !  " 

Decidedly  a  young  woman  of  no  illusions  —  a  force  to 
be  reckoned  with  was  Miss  Claudia  Torphichan-Stirling. 

In  the  large  house  in  Empress  Gate  there  were,  ex- 
cluding the  coteries  of  the  servants'  hall,  four  separate 
and  independent  worlds  —  and  between  them  four  several 
great  gulfs  fixed.  So,  naturally,  it  took  Hester  a  con- 
siderable time  before  she  began  to  understand  the  intri- 
cate politics  of  the  establishment. 

There  was,  first  of  all,  the  world  of  fifth-rate  politics, 
which  talks  of  party  leaders  by  their  surnames,  as  if 
they  were  partners  in  a  foursome ;  with  this  was 
conjoined,  as  a  paying  annex,  that  particular  province 
of  philanthropy  which  may  be  called  the  professional 
one  —  that  which  not  only  lets  its  right  hand  know 
what  its  left  hand  is  doing,  but  advertises  details  in 
the  newspapers.  This,  of  course,  was  the  world  of  the 
Baronet  and  his  lady.  The  seat  of  its  empire  was 
the  black  walnut  dining-room  with  a  table  seating 
thirty-six,  together  with  the  great  drawing-room  into 
which  at  the  memorable  meeting  of  the  Sparrow  Pro- 
tection League,  over  three  hundred  ladies  (mostly  of 
weight)  had  been  packed  —  without  apparent  danger  to 

170 


FOUR    WORLDS    OF    EMPRESS    GATE 

the  walls,  which    proves    that    the    theory  of  strains    is 
sometimes  considerably   out. 

The  second  world  was  bounded  by  the  walls  of  the 
Blue  Drawing-room,  of  Aliss  Ethel's  boudoir  —  and  of 
the  conservatory.  This  was  the  social  and  fighting 
world,  and  when  the  new  ball-room,  with  the  most 
marvellous  floor  in  London,  should  be  finished,  Claudia 
anticipated  that  quite  a  number  of  Waterloos  would 
take  place,  having  the  general  result  of  crowning  her 
own  and  her  sister's  foreheads  with  bay  —  or  even  with 
strawberry  leaves. 

As  to  the  third  world,  its  perfume  was  tobacco,  its 
temple  enclosure  and  court  of  the  Gentiles  being  the 
smoking  and  billiard  rooms  (added  by  Sylvanus  against 
his  principles,  but  with  the  strongest  feeling  of  their 
necessity),  and  its  Holy  of  Holies  a  certain  nondescript 
barracks  at  the  top  of  the  house,  full  of  all  manner  of 
long-seated  cane  chairs,  pipe-racks,  guns,  rods,  golf- 
clubs,  dressing-gowns,  with  a  table  for  Vic  to  sit  on  and 
swing  her  legs  while  the  men  talked  horse  and  race- 
course, rod  and  gun,  wine,  women,  and  the  music-hall 
song  of  the  moment.  This  comfortable  lumber-room 
was  called,  for  no  particular  reason  "  Tom's  study." 

To  it  a  few  approved  men  were  sometimes  invited  to 
ascend  "  after  you  have  got  through  with  Eth."  But 
the  apartment  was  strictly  tabooed,  not  only  to  the 
majority  of  "  Eth's  wild  beasts  "  and  "  tame  cats,"  but 
to  the  young  lady  herself,  and  her  aider  and  abetter, 
Claudia. 

"See  here,  you  fellows,"  7\)m  would  say  upon 
occasion,  "  light  up  and  smoke  like  chimneys,  or  these 
crimpy  girls  from  the  Blue-room  will  be  coming  up  to 
spoil  the  fun.  Light  up,  Vic,  old  gal  —  here's  a  gold- 
tip  for  you  !  " 

171 


FOUR   WORLDS    OF   EMPRESS    GATE 

And  in  five  minutes  there  would  arise  a  white  cloud, 
suffocating  like  the  smoky  steam  from  a  score  of  high- 
pressure  engines — not  the  dim  blue  haze  pervading  and 
fragrant  as  incense  which  gathers  when  men  are  smok- 
ing slowly  and  with  their  souls  in  the  evening  oblation. 
This  faked-up  pother  would  not  have  deceived  a  man  for 
a  moment  —  even  Vic  would  have  detected  the  impos- 
ture. But "  bless  you,"  as  Tom  declared,  "  Eth  and  Clau 
will  never  know  that  we  have  not  been  at  it  for  hours." 

Then,  when,  having  themselves  ''got  through" 
with  their  visitors  in  the  Blue  Drawing-room  the  two 
young  ladies  of  the  house  (Vic  being  avowedly  one  of 
the  "fellows")  were  heard  gingerly  ascending  the 
wooden  stairs,  Tom  would  wave  his  arms  wildly  "  to 
mix  things,"  as  he  said,  occasionally  animadverting,  in 
a  hushed  whisper,  on  the  apparent  treachery  of  some 
intimate. 

"  Look  here,  you  Armytage,  I  believe  you  want  'em 
to  come  in.      Smoke  as  if  you  meant  it !  " 

Then  Ethel  would  tap  gently,  and  open  the  door  in 
the  midst  of  a  great  silence. 

"  Why,  Eth,  is  that  you  ?  "  the  wary  Tom  would  cry. 
"  Come  in,  old  girl." 

"  Ugh !  ugh !  You  horrid  wretches,  you  have  an 
r.tmosphere  as  thick  as  black  fog.  And  the  smell  ! 
Come,  Claudia,  we  shall  be  like  costers  in  a  minute ! 
Why,  it 's  worse  than  the  bar  of  a  public-house  !  " 

By  this  time  all  the  men  are  on  their  feet. 

"  Look  here,  Eth  —  hold  on  !  " 

"Don't  go  Miss  Stirling!  We'll  shut  off  steam! 
Did  n't  know  you  were  coming  up  !  Awfully  sorry, 
y'-know  !  " 

But  by  this  time  the  "  young  ladies  "  were  half-way 
back  to  the  Blue  Drawing-room. 

172 


FOUR    WORLDS    OF    EMPRESS    GATE 

"  It  is  a  shame,"  thus  Claudia  would  meditate,  sadly ; 
"  and  some  of  them  quite  nice,  too  !  I  wish  we  could 
have  stayed  !  " 

The  fourth  and  last  circle  of  this  doubtful  Paradise 
in  Empress  Gate  was  that  of  the  "  younger  children," 
the  world  of  the  schoolroom  and  the  day-nursery,  which 
was  just  emerging  into  the  "  children's  parlour."  This, 
as  we  have  seen,  was  the  haunt  of  Stanhope,  Lot,  and 
the  Grub.  It  became  the  Inquisition  and  Holy  Office  of 
poor  Miss  Martin  during  the  evenmg,  and  the  lecture- 
room  of  several  tutors  and  masters  during  the  day  —  the 
chief  of  whom  being  a  certain  Mr.  Clarence  Shillinglaw, 
a  hard-fisted,  hard-driving  Scot,  than  whom  no  better 
tutor  could  have  been  obtained  for  such  Crim  Tartars  as 
the  younger  hopes  of  the  house  of  Torphichan-Stirling. 

This,  of  course,  was  the  world  set  aside  for  our  par- 
ticular little  Ugly  Duckling  from  the  lily  pools  of  the 
water  of  Darroch.  But  it  was  to  the  second  that  the 
Master  of  .Darroch  was  welcomed  with  open  arms  —  if 
one  may  use  the  phrase  of  damsels  so  correct  as  the  twin 
queens  of  the  Blue  Drawing-room. 


173 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE   COMFORTABLE   ESTATE   OF   MATRIMONY 

IT  was  the  stillest  of  mornings  at  the  Manse  of  St. 
John.  The  minister  had  gone  down  by  the  water- 
side to  the  walk  that  is  called  by  his  name  to  all 
time.  The  moon  was  yet  shining  quite  brightly  when 
his  thick  water-proof  boots  first  swished  through  the 
grass.  She  was  an  old  moon,  in  her  last  quarter,  already 
gravid  and  quick  with  the  promise  of  the  new  light 
which  was  to  come  after  the  days  of  darkness. 

It  was  too  dark  for  the  minister  to  see  his  Greek 
Testament,  but  the  moan  of  his  unspoken  prayers  sighed 
from  him  as  the  night  winds  do  through  the  willow 
copses  on  the  Darroch  edge. 

It  was  the  Fast-Day — that  is,  the  day  of  solemn 
preparation  for  the  yearly  communion  in  God's-House- 
of-Saint-John,  and  the  minister  had  old-fashioned  notions. 
So  he  prayed  for  his  people,  that  they  might  be  enabled 
to  attend  the  services  of  the  sanctuary,  and  for  strength 
and  grace  strenuously  to  rebuke  them  if  they  did  not. 
He  prayed  for  Megsy,  that  she  might  have  resignation 
given  her  to  see  in  the  separation  from  her  bairn  the 
onlaying  of  a  higher  hand. 

He  prayed  for  the  bairn  herself — his  bairn  —  their 
bairn. 

And  at  that  moment  the  prayer  ceased  in  a  little  out- 
cry—  a  kind  of  invincible  eruption  in  Anthony  Borrow- 
man's  breast,  half  protest  of  contempt  at  his  own 
weakness,  half  involuntary  upheaval  of  his  whole  nature 

174 


THE     ESTATE     OF     MATRIMONY 

—  as  when  over  a  hidden  rock,  weed-grown,  the  green 
seawatcr  which  has  long  been  gathering  and  swaying, 
sinks,  rises,  and  breaks  in  one  great  pulse  of  whitening 
suriie.  So  within  him  the  soul  of  the  minister  heaved, 
swayed,  and  broke. 

There  came  a  \oice  from  over  the  wall  of  the  kirk- 
vard  —  a  voice  from  among  the  tombs,  startling  enough 
at  that  hour,  and  in  that  quiet  place. 

"  W^hat  for  are  ye  greetin',  minister  ?  " 

Anthony  Borrowman  upheaved  himself  on  tiptoe,  put 
his  hand  on  the  rough  stones  of  the  dyke,  and  looked  for 
his  interlocutor,  that  he  might  discharge  upon  him  the 
bitter  sixth  vial  of  his  heart. 

"  You  that  dares  to  say  that  I  am  greetin'  —  stand 
forth  !  " 

In  a  moment  the  man  had  forgotten  his  weakness, 
and  the  minister  risen  to  the  height  of  his  office. 

"  It  was  like  being  at  a  session  meetin'  when  the 
minister  girds  his  loins  for  the  reproof  of  the  stiff- 
necked  and  rebellious,"  said  Anders  MacQuaker.  And 
Anders,  bv  reason  of  his  office,  was  a  connoisseur  in 
such  things. 

"  Man,"  said  Anders,  telling  the  tale  afterwards, 
"  when  I  saw  himscl'  face  to  face,  glowerin'  at  me  like 
an  angry  bull  o'  Bashan  —  faith,  but  I  was  glad  tliat 
there  was  at  the  least  a  guid  five-foot  stane  dyke  atween 
us.  For  the  minister  is  no  canny  man  to  face  when  the 
fit  is  on  him  ! 

"'What  richt  hac  you,  or  any  man,  to  sav  that  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel  is  greetin' — when,  as  it  may  be, 
the  wind  may  hae  brocht  the  water  in  his  e'en  ?  ' 

"  And  I  'ni  tcllin'  yc  it  was  that  still  ye  could  hear 
Kip  MacKinstrey  cryin'  in  the  kyc  on  the  back  hill  o' 
Arioland.      iiut  there  stood   the  minister,  wi'  the  black 

^75 


THE     ESTATE     OF     MATRIMONY 

lee  in  his  mooth  and  the  licht  o'  anither  warl'  on  his 
coontenance.  Faith,  boys,  but  I  couldna  but  admire  at 
the  genius  o'  the  man  ! 

''  Then  says  he,  for  I  could  speak  no  word,  '  Anders 
MacQuaker,'  says  he, '  what  seek  ye  in  the  resting-place 
of  the  saints  before  the  breaking  of  the  day  ? ' 

"  Noo,  lads,  ye  are  decent  lads,  but  maist  o'  your 
experience  o'  life  is  yet  to  come  to  you  ;  but  if  I  am  to 
tell  ye  this  thing  as  it  happened,  there  maun  be  nae 
lauchin',  or  scornin',  or,  by  the  grave  o'  Peden  the  Pro- 
phet, though  I  am  auld  eneuch  to  be  ony  o'  your  grand- 
faithers,  I  will  tak'  the  scoffer  to  the  door  and  gie  him 
strength-o'-airm.     Noo,  be  heedin',  lads  ! 

"  So  I  telled  him  what  I  did  in  the  kirk-yaird. 

" '  Minister,'  says  I,  '  I  seek  no  man's  hurt,  neither 
the  property  of  ony.  I  am  no  resurrectioner,  nor  yet 
wad  I  move  the  ancient  landmarks  and  say  that  any 
man's  plot  o'  kirk-yaird  grund  was  mine.  But  there  is 
a  headstone  here  that  I  hae  an  interest  in.  It  marks 
the  spot  where  lie  the  forbears  of  an  honest  woman, 
Margaret  Tipperlin,  that  is  housekeeper  to  yoursel'. 
Here  lies  her  faither,  decent  man,  that  was  portioner  in 
Mayfield  o'  Balmaghie,  as  the  stane  itsel'  records,  her 
mither  that  was  cut  aff  in  her  prime,  her  faither's 
faither,  Tammas  Tipperlin,  carrier  to  Carsphairn,  and 
his  brither  John,  that  was  hangit  for  sheep-stealin'  — 
but  maist  unjustly,  for  John  only  helped  the  thief  to 
drive  them  awa',  being  prood  o'  the  workin'  o'  his  dog, 
and  saft  by  natur'.  Ye  see  his  inscription,  "  Died  by  the 
veesitation  o'  Providence."  For  the  lads  beggit  his  body 
frae  Calcraft,  and  he  was  brocht  in  here  ower  the  wa' 
and  buried  under  cloud  o'  nicht,  as  I  hae  often  heard 
my  faither  tell. 

" '  Noo,  sir,'  says  I  to  the  minister,  '  ye  ken  that  of 
176 


THE     ESTATE     OF     MATRIMONY 

a  lang  season,  I,  Anders  MacQuaker,  hae  desired  to 
put  up  the  banns  wi'  Alargaret  Tipperlin.  But  aye, 
tor  a  taut  in  the  past  that  I  need  not  condescend  upon, 
Marget  says  me  nay.  So  it  is  aye  some  comfort  to  a 
man's  hean  when  he  no  permitted  to  care  for  Marget 
leevin',  to  gie  a  bit  owerlook  at  the  place  where  she 
will  lie  when  she  is  dead.  And  I  hae  bocht  the  bit  o' 
grund  next  to  the  Tipperlin  plot,  sir,  so  that  at  the 
judgment-day  her  and  me  will  sit  up  in  oor  shrouds 
thegither,  and  I  will  juist  nod  to  Marget,  and  she  will 
nod  back  to  me,  weel  pleased-like  to  see  a  kenned  face 
at  sic  a  time.  For  we  will  no  be  able  to  hear  yin  anither 
speak  for  Gawbriel  and  his  trumpet !  ' 

"  Then  the  minister  upraise  to  rebuke.  I  wondered 
when  it  was  coming! 

" '  Anders,'  says  he,  '  that  is  no  a  proper  mainner  to 
speak  concernin'  the  mysteries  o'  the  Last  Things  !  ' 

" '  Maybe  no,  minister,'  says  I,  for  his  e'en  were  kind, 
though  tho  anger  was  on  his  tongue,  '  but,  as  ye  ken,  I 
am  an  ignorant  man  and  unlearned.  Yet  noo  that  your 
honour  is  here,  maybe  I  micht  ask  ye  to  say  a  bit  word 
to  Marget  for  me  —  to  influence  her  mind  sae  that  after 
a'  she  micht  tak'  a  thocht  to  marry  me.  I  hae  a  bit 
snug  doon-sittin',  minister !' 

'^' '  What  does  a  man  o'  your  age  want  wi'  a  wife  ? ' 
says   he,  brisklike. 

'"What  does  ony  man  want  wi'  a  wife?'  says  I 
back  to  him,  to  the   full  juist   as   brisk. 

"  The  minister  gied  a  bit  lauch  at  that,  and  says  he, 
'  I  hae  never  wanted  yin,  at  any  rate  !  ' 

"'Never?'  says  I,  gieing  him  a  bit   slee  look,  for  I 

had  served  doon  in   Borgue,  and  had  heard  a  wee  sough 

there  o'  a  bit  lass  they  caacd   Jennie  Lake,  an   Englishy 

craitur  that    cam'    to    bide    ah(Jot    the    Lennox    Plunton 

12  177 


THE     ESTATE     OF     MATRIMONY 

when  Maister  Borrowman  was  a  student.  And  the 
Borgue  folk  said  she  was  a  consaity  handfu',  and  fell 
bonny.  At  ony  rate,  she  twined  young  Anton  aboot 
her  fingers  like  woodbine  on  a  hawthorn  bush.  And  a' 
the  while  the  deceitfu'  wee  fairy  was  trystit  to  be  mar- 
ried to  anither  man.  And  they  said  doon  there  that 
Maister  Borrowman  never  could  look  at  ony  woman  wi' 
pleesure  again.      And  sma'  wonder  ! 

"  Sae  when  I  said  to  him  'Never?'  —  like  that,  lads, 
and  gied  him  the  pawky  look,  I  saw  that  I  had  him. 

"  '  Davert ! '  says  he  —  weel,  lads,  may  be  he  didna 
juist  say  '  Davert,'  but  that  was  the  sense  o't.  '  What 
do  ye  want  me  to  do  ?  I  hae  a  good  housekeeper,  and 
I  dinna  want  to  lose  her,  and  gang  back  to  thae 
camsteery  hizzies  that  ravin'  wi'  dishclouts  and  dusters 
athwart  the  land  ! ' 

"  Oh,  he  's  an  almichty  queer  speaker  is  the  minister 
when  he  gets  started,  and  his  language  is  the  best 
substitute  for  sweerin'  that  ony  religious  man  ever 
invented.  Na,  na  —  I  '11  no  sit  still  and  hear  ony 
man  say  that  the  minister  swears.  But  a'  the  same, 
whiles  there  's  a  savour  aboot  his  conversation  as  if 
he  did! 

"  So  says  I,  '  Minister,  the  same  was  in  my  thocht. 
It 's  juist  a  notion  I  hae  that  I  '11  no  be  lang  for  this 
warl',  and  I  wad  like  Marget  to  bear  my  name,  and 
heir  my  bit  property  when  I  am  gane.  It 's  wi'  nae 
light  and  foolish  thochts  that  I  speak  till  ye,  minister. 
But  if  Marget  wad  mairry  me,  she  micht  juist  stop  on 
and  keep  the  Manse  as  she  has  been  doin'.  And  I  wad 
leeve  my  lane  in  the  wee  hoose  at  the  tap  o'  the  brae  — 
but  oh,  wi'  whatna  gladsome  heart  !  For  then  her 
an'  me  wad  sit  in  the  kirk  on  Sabbath  days,  no  man 
daring  to   hinder    or  make   us   afraid.     And    we   could 

178 


THE     ESTATE     OF     MATRI  A 1  O  N  Y 

sleep  soond  thegither  under  yae  moniment.  I  wad  feel 
it  an  honour  to  hae  my  name  amang  sic  a  weel-kenned 
stock  and  on  sic  a  weel-tilled  stane.  It  wad  read 
fine  :  — 

"  '  "  Also  of  Andrew  iVIacQuakcr,  spouse  to  the  above 
Margaret  Tipperlin,  departed  this  life  in  the  sure  and 
certain  howp  o'  a  glorious  resurrection,"  and  so  forth. 
And  I  'II  admit  that  it  was  wi'  that  thocht  in  my  mind 
that  I  hae  gi'en  this  stane  a  bit  touch  up  every  year 
wi'   black  soap   and   a  flannel  rag.' 

*■'•  I  could  see  that  the  minister  was  in  a  strait  betwixt 
two,  and  1  had  hope  that  he  wad  say  the  word  I  wanted 
him  to  say.  But  instead  he  only  looks  at  me  kind  o' 
curiously. 

"'  That  's  a  michty  cauldrife  view  to  tak'  o'  the  maist 
comfortable  estate  o'  matrimony,'  says  he,  '  and  I  canna 
ex  pec'  a  sensible  woman  like  Megsy  to  agree  to  ony  sic 
daft-like  thing.  But  I  '11  do  my  best  for  ye,  Anders. 
I  '11  mentioh  the  maitter  to  Margaret  at  a  suitable  time.' 

'"  Thank  ye,  minister,'  says  I,  'that  is  as  mucklc  as 
I  hae  ony  right  to  expec'  !  '  " 


179 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

RED-LETTER  DAY  AT  THE  MANSE 

THIS  was  Anders  MacQuaker's  account  of  the 
interview  over  the  kirk-yard  wall  early  on  the 
morning  of  the  summer  Fast-Day  in  the  parish 
of  St.  John.  The  minister  walked  away  back  to  his 
breakfast,  smiling  quietly  to  himself  at  the  peculiar  views 
of  Anders  upon  marriage,  and  concerning  the  duties 
and  privileges  of  husbands. 

When  he  reached  the  gate  which  leads  to  the  Manse 
door,  he  met  the  postman  just  turning  out  of  the 
avenue  into  the  dusky,  tree-shaded  road  which  leads 
towards  Darroch  Bridge.  At  sight  of  him,  Mr. 
Borrowman  quickened  his  step  considerably  without 
explaining  very  definitely  to  himself  why  he  did  so. 
He  found  Megsy  standing  in  the  doorway  turning  over 
a  letter  in  her  hand,  a  letter  small  and  square,  "  backed" 
in  Hester's  quaint  characteristic  caligraphy,  which  had 
been  formed  upon  his  own  manner  of  writing  Greek. 

"  Deed,  minister,"  said  Megsy  handing  him  the 
letter,  "  it 's  as  weel  that  ye  cam'  in  when  ye  did.  For 
if  ye  had  been  a  meenite  langer,  I  declare  to  peace  I 
wad  hae  opened  it  mysel'  !  " 

Mr.  Borrowman  seated  himself  deliberately  in  the 
great  chair  in  his  study,  and,  producing  his  spectacles, 
entered  upon  a  performance  which  tried  to  the  utmost 
the  reasonable  soul  of  Megsy  Tipperlin.  He  breathed 
upon  the  glasses.  He  polished  them  with  a  particular 
silk    handkerchief    he    carried    for    the    purpose    in    an 

i8o 


RED-LETTER    DAY    AT    THE    MANSE 

inner  pocket.  If  another  handkerchief  appeared  in  its 
place  it  had  to  be  returned,  and  the  proper  one  found. 
Then  at  last  the  glasses  were  carefully  adjusted,  and 
from  his  waistcoat  pocket  the  minister  produced  the 
worn  silver  blade  of  an  old  fruit-knife,  a  relic  of  the 
days  when  he  pared  apples  for  Jennie  Lake  on  the  fair 
green  shores  of  Borgue,  the  sea-washed  pearl  of 
Galloway   parishes. 

Finally,  with  the  proper  weapon,  and  holding  the 
missive  at  the  proper  angle,  Anthony  Borrowman  slid 
the  point  along  the  upper  edge  of  the  envelope,  at  the 
precise  moment  when  Mount  Tipperlin  was  about  to 
erupt  with  destructive  force.  Then  he  turned  the  con- 
tents leisurely  over,  looked  well  at  the  signature  as  if 
he  suspected  forgerv,  counted  the  pages,  examined  the 
envelope  again,  comparing  the  postmarks  with  the  date 
on  the  letter — and  ( just  as  Megsy  began  to  move  slowly 
nearer  to  snatch  the  letter  from  his  hand)  he  cleared 
his  throat -and  began.  To  allow  her  master  to  read 
Hester's  letter  over  to  himself  first  was  a  point  beyond 
Megsy's  endurance.  He  had  tried  it  once,  and  once 
only.  For  Megsy  had  snatched  the  letter  out  of  his 
fingers,  with  the  words,  "  For  a  minister  o'  the  Word 
ye  are  the  maist  provokin'  craitur  —  gie  me  the  letter, 
gin  ye  dinna  want  to  read  it,"  and  so  retreated  into  the 
kitchen,  to  which,  after  a  conflict  with  his  pride,  the 
minister   was   fain   to   follow   her. 

After  that  he  drew  the  line  at  private  readings. 

"Dearest  old  darlings,"  it  began  ("How  often  have 
1  told  the  girl  that  such  conjunctions  of  endearing 
terms  are  superfluous  and  trivial!"  commented  the 
minister,   looking  at   Megsy). 

"  I  'm  standin'  aboot  a'  I  can  frae  you,  minister  !  " 
said     Megsy,    warningly,    her     fingers     twitching.      So, 

i8i 


RED-LETTER    DAY    AT    THE    MANSE 

very  hastily,  in  fear  of  that  which  might  happen,  the 
reader  resumed  :  "  How  are  you  both,  and  is  Revvie's 
rheumatism  better  ?  Mind  the  something  warm  before 
you  send  him  to  bed.  I  wish  I  were  there  to  see  that 
he  takes  it.  But  Megsy  will  attend  to  that  if  I  tell 
her." 

(As  she  listened,  Megsy's  face  grew  rapt  and  joyous 
like  that  of  a  worshipper  at  a  shrine.) 

"  I  am  very  well  here,  and  liking  it  better  every  day. 
They  are  all  wonderfully  kind  to  me,  and  I  think  when 
I  get  used  to  being  away  from  home,  I  shall  enjoy  some 
of  the  many  advantages  I  have  here.  There  are  the 
best  tutors  and  masters  in  London.  And  uncle  has 
given  orders  that  I  am  to  have  what  lessons  I  like  with 
them.  The  man  who  teaches  dancing  is  a  very  funny 
little  Frenchman,  and  takes  a  great  deal  of  pains  with 
me.  He  often  teaches  me  the  whole  hour,  while  the 
children  play,  and  afterwards,  too,  if  we  can  find  an 
empty  room.  That  is  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  day 
for  me.  But  you  can  tell  Anders,  who  taught  me  my 
steps  in  the  old  barn  at  Arioland,  that  if  I  do  well  and 
the  Frenchman  is  pleased,  it  is  all  owing  to  him." 

("  That  will  please  Anders  ! "  interjected  the  minister, 
looking  up.) 

"Drive  on — beggin'  your  pardon,  minister,"  said 
Megsy,  impatiently. 

"The  tutor  who  comes  for  English  and  languages 
is  an  Aberdeenshire  man  and  a  good  scholar.  He  can 
manage  the  children  best  of  them  all,  and  he  is  very 
strict  with  me.  But  he  says  my  Latin  version  is  as 
good  as  he  can  do  himself.  '  Melvin  could  not  better 
it,'  he  said  yesterday.  So  my  dear  old  bear  on  the 
three-cornered  chair  will  be  pleased  that  I  am  doing 
him  credit.      Cousin  Tom  is  nice  to  me,  and  means  to 

182 


RED-LETTER    DAY    AT    THE    MANSE 

be  ver)'  kind  indeed,  but  I  see  little  of  any  in  the 
house  except  the  three  younger  children  and  the  mas- 
ters. I  have  supper  with  the  '  Preparation  '  governess, 
and  the  rest  of  the  time  I  take  my  meals  with  the 
children. 

"  Uncle  Sylvanus  often  comes  in  to  see  us,  and  some- 
times Aunt.  Occasionally  I  go  to  the  drawing-room, 
and  who  do  you  think  was  there  one  evening  —  Carus 
Darroch.  But  I  got  out  before  he  saw  me,  though  I 
don't  believe  he  would  have  remembered  me.  They 
say  he  is  going  to  marry  Ethel.  But  oh  !  I  hope  not, 
for  she  is  a  vain,  empty,  silly,  spiteful,  dressed-up  doll. 
There !  I  am  sorry  to  speak  so  horribly  of  any  one 
under  a  roof  which  shelters  me,  but  I  am  sure  you 
will  forgive  me.  I  do  not  want  any  more  money, 
dear  Bear;  I  have  nearly  all  you  sent  me  at  Christmas. 
And  I  have  not  needed  to  get  any  new  clothes.  Those 
I  have  are  quite  good  yet.  I  take  great  care  of  them, 
you  see  —  much  better  care  than  Some-one-who-shall- 
be-nameless  takes  of  his  Sunday   coat. 

"  I  go  to  church  with  the  children,  but  the  minister 
does  not  preach.  He  just  stands  in  a  corner  and 
mutters  as  if  he  was  ashamed  of  what  he  was  saying. 
As,  indeed,  well  he  may.  He  is  very  young  and  clever 
—  so  they  sav  —  and  has  just  come  from  Oxford,  where 
he  was  a  great  scholar,  which  makes  it  all  the  greater 
shame  that  nobody  there  should  have  told  him  not  to 
mumble.      His   name   is   Rupert  Challoncr." 

("What  a  peppery  little  quill  we  drive!"  said  the 
minister,  smiling.) 

"He  comes  to  see  Claudia  on  her  'at-home'  day," 
the  letter  proceeded,  "  and  one  day  he  came  into  the 
school-room,  where  we  were  working,  and  I  was  all  bent 
over  the  desk  (as  the   dear   Bear  has  often   told  me  not 

183 


RED-LETTER    DAY    AT    THE    MANSE 

to).  And  Mr.  Challoner  patted  me  on  the  head,  and 
asked  me  if  I  had  been  confirmed,  and  if  I  knew  my 
catechism.  For  he  has  very  strict  notions  about  con- 
fessing and  early  communion  and  things  like  that. 
They  call  these  religion  here. 

"  '  Which  catechism  ? '  I  answered  as  innocently  as  I 
could,  looking  down  as  if  I  were  shy.  And  I  don't 
think  he  knew  I  was  so  old.  For  you  see  it  was  a  warm 
day  and,  not  expecting  anyone,  I  had  just  tied  my  hair 
with  a  ribbon  and  let  the  ends  hang  down  my  back. 

" '  The  Church  of  England  catechism,  of  course  ; '  he 
said,  very  much  surprised. 

"'I  have  read  it,'  I  told  him,  'but  I  don't  call  that  a 
catechism  ! ' 

"  Then  he  gasped  just  like  a  dog  that  had  snapped  at 
a  fly  and  missed  it. 

" '  You  are  surely  not  a  Dissenter  ? '  he  said. 

" '  Oh,  no,'  I  answered,  '  I  belong  to  the  Church  of 
Scotland,  and  if  you  came  to  my  country,  you  would  be 
the  Dissenter  if  you  did  n't  go  there,  too.'  So  after  he 
had  thought  a  while,  he  said  that  he  had  not  time  then, 
but  that  he  would  come  back  after  his  holidays,  and 
instruct  me  about  churches  and  catechisms.  So,  please, 
dear  Ursa  Major,  send  me  '  Pearson  on  the  Creed,'  and 
Doctor  Whyte's  book  on  the  Shorter  Catechism,  and 
Rutherford's  Lex  Rex  —  and  anything  you  can  think  of, 
and  oh.  Principal  Rainy's  Reply  to  Stanley,  and  every- 
thing. I  will  read  them  all,  so  that  I  may  be  quite 
ready  to  be  instructed.  There  is  not  much  fun  here, 
but  I  think  that  will  be  funny.  Mr.  Challoner  did  not 
pat  me  on  the  head  when  he  went  away.  I  think  he 
thought  me  a  lapsed  mass ;  and  oh,  I  forgot,  he  asked 
me  if  I  was  a  '  devotee '  ?  I  said  I  did  not  know  what 
that  was.      Had  it  anything  to  do  with  a  dovecote  i 

184 


RED-LETTER    DAY    AT    THE    MANSE 

"  Then  he  did  not  know  whether  I  was  laughing  or 
not,  and  went  away  in  a  rage.  And  perhaps  it  was 
wicked  of  me.  But  it  is  so  dull  here,  with  nothing  but 
lessons  all  day  long,  and  preparation  in  the  evening, 
that  one  has  to  do  something  So,  Revvie,  please  send 
me  the  books.      I  will  take  such  care  of  them." 

("The  little  vixen!"  said  the  minister,  smiling. 
"  That  is  all,  Megsy,  on  my  honour.  Oh,  no,  there  is 
a  postscript.  Was  there  ever  a  woman's  letter  yet  with- 
out one  ?  ") 

"  I  wish  there  were  twenty.  I  could  stand  all  day 
listening,  and  the  potatoes  no  scraped." 

"  Good-bye,  dear  Bear.  Be  good  and  change  your 
socks.  And  Megsy,  remember  about  Revvie's  *■  internal 
application  '  —  at  bedtime  —  hot !  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Megsv,  with  a  long  and  wistful  sigh,  "  it 
will  be  a  hale  week  before  the  next  comes  !  " 

So  in  tjie  Manse  above  the  sough  of  the  Darroch 
Water  these  two  lived  a  double  life  —  that  of  the  pleasant 
white-washed  Clachan  on  its  sunny  brae,  and  that  of 
No.  9,  Empress  Gate,  Hyde  Park,  W. 

And  to  both  Megsy  and  her  master,  that  which  was 
far  away  was  the  more  real,  while  that  which  was  near 
rang  hollow  as  when  one  speaks  aloud  in  an  empty 
church. 


«85 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

THE  Master  of  Darroch  took  his  grandmother's 
advice,  and  went  to  town,  determined  at  least  to 
see  the  lady  whom  fate  and  his  father  had  con- 
stituted his  alternative  to  practical  disinheritance.  The 
Duchess  presented  him  with  a  neatly-rolled  parcel  upon 
his  departure,  which  she  described  as  a  little  silver  lining 
for  his  cloud  of  misfortune.  Now  the  Grenadier  had 
tipped  Carus  ever  since  his  going  to  school,  and  he  took 
the  little  sheaf  of  banknotes  as  readily  as  he  had  taken 
his  first  grandmaternal  sovereign. 

In  London  and  especially  in  Empress  Gate  it  was 
glaringly  white  and  hot  outside.  Within  the  latter  it 
was  Ethel's  day,  and,  as  usual,  all  was  cool  and  dusky 
and  subdued  in  the  Blue  Drawing-room.  The  fountain 
sprayed  deliciously  in  the  little  built-on  conservatory, 
and,  falling  over  concealed  blocks  of  ice,  diffused  a 
charming  freshness  through  all  the  domains  of  Ethel 
and  Claudia,  the  second  of  the  four  Empress  Gate 
worlds. 

Carus  called  somewhat  late,  walking  reluctantly  out 
of  Kensington  Gardens,  where  he  had  been  trying  to 
keep  cool  among  the  leaf  shadows,  and  to  retain  his 
self-respect  in  the  vicinity  of  a  host  of  nursemaids,  who, 
quite  unabashed  by  his  presence,  continued  to  perform 
the  duties  of  their  profession  with  a  frankness  and  zest 
quite  oriental. 

i36 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

The  young  man  walked  across  Hyde  Park  and  pre- 
sented himself  before  the  blue  and  silver  menial  at  the 
door  of  Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling.  Carus  asked 
for  Lady  Stirling,  but  the  man  appeared  to  take  no  notice 
whatever  of  his  words.  As  he  mounted,  Carus  observed 
a  large  number  of  respectable  ladies  taking  tea  and  at 
the  same  time  talking  vigorously  in  a  vast  drawing-room 
looking  to  the  front.  He  half  paused,  as  if  expecting  to 
be  shown  in  there. 

"  This  way  if  you  please,  sir,"  said  Timson,  and  led 
the  way  along  a  passage  to  the  right.  A  moment  later 
he  was  announcing  "  The  Master  of  Darroch  "  at  the 
door  of  the  Blue  Drawing-room. 

There  were  a  number  of  young  men,  but  only  two 
ladies,  in  this  small  and  pretty  room.  At  first  Carus 
could  not  make  out  which  of  these  was  his  *■'■  alterna- 
tive," but  at  the  sound  of  his  name,  a  tall  girl,  with 
features  strikingly  regular,  and  the  confident  carriage  of 
an  undoubted  beauty,  sprang  forward  with  the  charming 
little  trip  of  impulsive  unconsciousness  which  was  then 
the  fashion. 

"  How  kind  of  you,"  she  cried  ;  "  I  made  certain  you 
had  forgotten  me.  And  you  have  come  to  see  us  after 
all,  and  on  such  a  day  !  Claudia,  my  dear,  here  is  the 
Master  of  Darroch  !  " 

A  second  girl,  somewhat  paler  of  face,  with  less 
sprightliness  and  animation  than  her  sister,  disengaged 
herself  with  lingering  glances  from  the  society  of  a 
gentleman  who  had  been  entertaining  her  in  a  little 
alcove  near  the  fountain  and  the  ice-blocks.  Her  man- 
ner said  as  clearly  as  mere  expression  could,  "  See  what 
a  bore  it  is,  hut  I  have  no  alternative  !  " 

Claudia  was  dressed  in  pure  white,  which  suited  very 
well     her     fair     and     delicate     style     and     capacity    for 

187 


THE   WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

statuesque  poses.  "  Classic  Claudia,"  Tom  called  her. 
"If  there's  a  mantelpiece  within  a  mile,"  that  young 
gentleman  declared,  with  his  usual  fraternal  frankness, 
"  Claudia  will  hook  herself  on  to  it  somehow  by  the 
elbow-joint.  Then  she  will  cross  her  legs,  tilt  her 
chin,  and  there  you  are !  Walk  up,  ladies  and  gents  ! 
'  Gallery  of  statuary  —  classical  department !  No  extra 
charge ! ' " 

Ethel  encouraged  her  two  sisters  to  dress  in  white. 
For  herself  she  did  not  mean  to  be  clothed  like  every 
other  girl  in  the  world.  The  ingenue  was  not  her  role^ 
and  she  knew  it.  Certainly,  in  that  cool,  dusky  room, 
she  looked  wondrously  vivid  and  full  of  life.  She  wore 
what,  to  the  eye  merely  masculine,  appeared  to  be  a 
dress  composed  of  creamy  lawn  or  gauze,  over  a  foun- 
dation of  pale  blue,  full  cuffs  of  the  same  were  turned 
back  from  her  white  wrists,  and  the  permanent  chill 
which  abode  in  her  yellowish  eyes  was  unnoticed  in  a 
place  into  which  the  outer  glare  was  only  permitted  to 
filter. 

Carus  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  make  a  habit 
of  frequenting  afternoon  teas,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that 
he  thoroughly  enjoyed  this  one.  It  is  pleasant  when  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  room,  and  your  hostess  to  boot,  is 
moved  to  show  a  marked  preference  for  your  society. 
It  is  pleasant  to  find  a  sheltered  nook,  and  talk  con- 
fidentially of  books  and  men,  of  distant  travel  and  the 
hills  of  home. 

"  It  is  strange,  is  it  not,"  said  Ethel,  leaning  towards 
Carus  a  little  mysteriously,  "  that  we  should  be  such 
near  neighbours  and  yet  see  so  little  of  each  other  ?  I 
hear  my  father  talk  a  great  deal  of  yours.  Yet  you  we 
have  hardly  ever  seen  since  you  were  a  boy." 

"  I  suppose  I  have  been  at  college  and  abroad  ever 
i88 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

since.      And  you,  I  fancy,  have  lately  been  more  in  town 
than  at  Arioland." 

'■'■  The  new  house  there  has  that  to  answer  for," 
smiled  Ethel;  "we  have  been  building  a  new  one  on 
the  old  site,  you  know.  I  believe  that  from  the  towers 
you  can  see  Darroch  Castle." 

"  I  declare  1  don't  know  when  I  was  last  on  the  top 
of  Darroch,"  answered  Carus,  gallantly,  "not  since  I 
was  a  boy  looking  for  jackdaws'  nests.  But  now  I  shall 
have  a  reason  for  climbing  up  there  again  !  " 

"  And  what  is  that  reason  ?  "  said  Ethel,  piquantly, 
letting  her  eyes  dwell  pleasurably  upon  the  handsome 
youth. 

*'  Why,  to  find  out  whether  you  are  at  home,  of 
course — you   will  fly  a   flag,  I   suppose?" 

"  What  fun  !  "  cried  Ethel,  clapping  her  hands, 
impulsively ;  "  we  will  organise  a  system  of  signals. 
Hector  Maxwell  is  a  signal  lieutenant  in  the  Navy.  I 
shall  ask  him  to  send  us  up  a  complete  code." 

It  was  just  at  that  moment  that  Hester  came  into 
the  Blue  Drawing-room  to  get  a  book,  but,  seeing 
Carus  talking  confidentially  to  Ethel,  she  stole  quietly 
away   without   his  having   seen   her. 

"It  is  a  pity,"  she  thought;  "if  he  only  knew  how 
cruel  and  hard-hearted  she  is  —  but,  after  all,  what  does 
it  matter  to  me  r  " 

She  ended  with  a  sigh,  and  so  put  the  young  man  out 
of  her  head.  She  was  only  a  little  country  girl,  a 
nursery  governess  —  what  better?  —  whom  her  uncle  had 
brought  to  town  to  look  after  the  younger  children  and 
keep  them  within  bounds.  She  glanced  down  at  her 
dingy  brown  frock,  which,  with  all  her  mending  and 
care,  seemed  to  wax  shabbier  and  more  threadbare  day 
by  day. 

.89 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

"  Well,"  she  meditated,  "  I  have  no  business  to  be 
thinking  of  such  things,  and  it  is  very  kind  of  Sir 
Sylvanus  to  give  me  the  opportunity  of  studying  under 
all  these  good  and  expensive  masters.  Certainly  the 
dancing  lessons  are  very  pleasant.  Monsieur  Gargilesse 
is  more  than  kind." 

"  You  are  my  most  favourite  pupil,"  that  gentle- 
man was  accustomed  to  say  to  Hester;  "you  have 
the  soul  in  your  feet.  Mademoiselle  dances  with 
her  heart,  and  also  with  her  eyes  !  It  is  good  to 
behold  you.  To-morrow  I  will  begin  to  teach  you  ze 
skirt  dance  !  " 

And  though  at  first  she  had  shrunk  from  the  thought, 
yet  when  her  cousins  went  away  for  a  long  holiday,  in 
which  she  was  not  to  participate,  and  left  her  alone 
with  Miss  Martin  and  the  three  children,  the  dancing 
lessons  were  certainly  very  interesting  and  M.  Gar- 
gilesse took  a  great  deal  of  pains  with  her.  It  was 
something  to  do.  It  gave  a  point  to  the  dull  monotony 
of  the  day.  But  Mr.  Clarence  Shillinglaw,  of  Aberdeen, 
coming  in  one  day  at  the  close  of  the  lesson,  gazed  at 
the  graceful  performance  with  severe  disapproval,  and 
when  Hester  paused,  panting,  upon  the  ball-room  floor 
where  the  children  received  their  dancing  lessons,  the 
tutor  came  close   up  to  her. 

"  Do  you  think  Sir  Sylvanus  would  approve  ?  "  Mr. 
Shillinglaw  inquired,  looking  at  the  red  of  Hester's  lips 
and  the  brilliance  of  her  eyes. 

Hester  had  danced  well,  and  she  knew  it.  M.  Gar- 
gilesse was  loud  in  her  praise,  and  at  Empress  Gate  she 
got  little  enough  of  that.  So  at  that  particular  moment 
she  was  not  going  to  be  snubbed  by  Mr«  Clarence 
Shillinglaw. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  ask  Sir  Sylvanus  whether  he 
190 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

approves  of  my  learning  dancing  or  not  ?  "  she  inquired, 
with  the  slightest  saucy  curl  of  the  lip. 

"  No,"  said  the  Scot,  readily,  "  that  I  do  not !  " 

"  Then,"  said  Hester,  recklessly,  "  we  will  try  again, 
if  you  please,  M.  Gargilesse  !  " 

Yet  this  was  done  in  all  innocency — with  the  sole 
thought  of  astonishing  Megsy,  and  perhaps  (under  seal 
of  the  utmost  secrecy)  the  minister  himself,  when  the 
glad  day  of  her  return  should  at  last  arrive.  And  now, 
though  he  maintained  his  attitude  of  severe  and  even 
censorious  disapproval,  Mr.  Shillinglaw  did  not  go  away. 
On  the  contrary,  he  remained  to  the  end  of  the  lesson. 
At  which  the  eyes  of  the  little  Frenchman  twinkled, 
and   his  shoulders  shook. 

"  Oh,  Mees  Hestere,"  he  chuckled,  as  he  brushed  his 
hat  carefully  on  his  coat-sleeve  and  waited  for  his 
pupil,  who  always  helped  him  on  with  his  overcoat. 
"  Meester  Sheelinglong  is  in  lof — aha,  yes — I  see  it! 
He  no  like,  me  to  teach  you  how  to  dance,  for  fear  one 
day  you  dance  yourself  away  from  him  !  " 

"  But,  Monsieur  Gargilesse,"  said  Hester,  who  was 
rapidly  growing  wiser,  "  I  do  not  know  A4r.  Shilling- 
law  at  all.  You  are  pleased  to  talk  nonsense. 
Monsieur !  " 

"  Oh,  he  is  quite  raight,"  said  the  little  man,  "  but  it 
was  so  funny.  He  no  like  ze  dance,  and  yet  he  no  can 
go  away  !  Pardon  an  old  man  if  he  finds  it  amusant. 
There  are  not  many  amusant  things  in  London  !  " 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him,  Clau  ?  Will  he 
do  r  " 

These  were  P^thcl's  first  words  when  the  door  of  the 
Blue  Drawing-room  closed  u[)()ii  the  young  Master  of 
Darroch. 

191 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

"  Have  you  got  as  far  as  that  already  ?  "  said  Claudia, 
a  little  acidly.  She  had  not  obtained  an  innings  her- 
self, and  she  had  much  desired  to  pose  for  the  handsome 
newcomer.  She  had  indeed  stood  talking  to  Sidney 
Charlton  for  nearly  half-an-hour  for  that  very  purpose. 
Yet  never  once  had  the  misguided  young  man's  eyes 
been  raised  to  hers.  Ethel  had  completely  monopo- 
lised him,  and  thought  that  was  all  right,  and  Claudia 
knew  that  as  yet  she  had  only  second  choice  of  the 
visitors ;  still  there  were  moments  when  she  felt  herself 
distinctly  put  upon. 

"  Come,  Claudia  —  is  n't  he  awfully  handsome  ? 
Don't  you  think  he  has  quite  an  aristocratic  profile  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he 's  well  enough,"  said  Claudia,  carelessly, 
"  but  there  are  handsomer  men  to  be  found  every 
day  !  " 

"  I  deny  it,"  cried  Ethel,  who  was  in  high  spirits ; 
"  and  if  there  are,  which  of  them  is  the  only  son  of  my 
Lord  Darroch  !  " 

"  So  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  pick  up  the 
glove ! "  said  her  sister,  a  little  spitefully.  "  I  wish 
you  joy,  Eth.  But  what  will  Sidney  Charlton  say  ? 
He  looked  as  black  as  thunder,  and  only  hemmed  at  me 
instead  of  answering,  all  the  time  you  were  talking  to 
young  Darroch  on  the  ottoman," 

Ethel  shrugged  her  shoulders  at  the  name. 

"  Sidney  Charlton  can  exactly  please  himself  what  he 
does.  He  is  nothing  to  me  !  "  she  said,  with  a  curl  of 
the  lip,  and  the  hard  look  rising  to  the  surface  of  her 
eyes.  "  Besides,  I  do  not  throw  myself  at  any  man.  I 
know  my  value  too  well  for  that !  " 

"  Are  you  sure  he  is  in  love  with  you  ? "  asked 
Claudia,  her  curiosity  beginning  to  get  the  better  of  her 
initial  annoyance. 

192 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

"  No,"  said  Ethel,  with  a  toss  of  her  head,  "  even  I 
could  not  say  so  much  as  that,  after  a  bare  hour  in  a 
drawing-room.  But  he  admires  me,  and  I  am  sure  I 
can   make   him  in  love  with   me   if  I   like !  " 

"  And  will  you  like  ?  " 

'■'■  That  is  as  may  be,  miss,"  said  Ethel,  emphatically  ; 
"  but  did  you  see  that  little  cat,  Hester  Stirling,  come 
sneaking  in  to  see  what  she  could  spy  out.  I  will 
let  her  hear  about  that  on  the  deafest  side  of  her  head. 
What  business  has  she  to  enter  my  drawing-room  with- 
out being  invited  ?  And  in  that  old  brown  frock,  too ; 
none  of  the  maids  would  be  seen  in  it." 

*'  The  maids  have  wages,  Eth,"  said  Claudia, 
pointedly ;  "  has  Hester  had  any  since  she  came,  do 
you   know  ? " 

"What  should  she  have  wages  for?  She  gets  her 
food,  and  the  benefits  of  a  good  education " 

"  Mr.  Clarence  Shillinglaw,"  cried  Claudia,  with  a 
loud  laugh,;  "oh,  Eth,  do  you  know  I  met  him  in  the 
hall  to-day.  He  looked  more  than  ever  bare  and  bleak, 
as  if  he  had  been  squared  off  with  a  chisel  like  a  block 
of  stone  for  the  new  house,  straight  from  the  quarries 
at   Aberdeen." 

"  Well,  anyway,"  said  Ethel,  reverting  to  her 
cousin,  "  she  had  no  right  to  come  into  my  drawing- 
room  when  we  were  receiving.  And  I  will  tell  mother 
as  much  !  " 

On  his  way  eastward  to  his  hotel,  Carus  Darroch 
meditated  to  himself.  "  You  arc  young  to  think  of 
marrying,  Carus,  my  friend  —  but,  at  any  rate,  she  is 
not  so  bad  as  your  fancy  painted.  On  the  other  hand, 
she  is  distinctly  handsome  and  certainly  very  kind.  A 
man  might  do  W(jrse  than  marry  a  bright,  pretty,  com- 
'3  '93 


THE    WAY    NOT    TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

panionable  girl  like  that.  And,  after  all,  though  the 
governor  and  I  don't  get  on,  he  has  brought  me  up, 
and  I  will  oblige  him  if  I  can." 

In  this  manner  Carus  began,  a  little  indolently,  to 
argue  himself  into  a  species  of  love,  which  is  a  very 
amusing  thing  so  long  as  it  is  not  tried  by  the  "  ex- 
pulsive power  of  a  new  affection."  A  little  carefully- 
tended  picnic  fire,  fed  with  casual  sticks,  is  one  thing, 
and  the  horizon  ablaze  with  burning  heather  from  verge 
to  verge,  leaping  fences  and  eating  up  pine  forests,  is 
quite  another. 

On  the  whole,  however,  Carus  came  away  from 
Empress  Gate  very  well  satisfied  with  the  impression 
produced  by  his  visit.  But  he  ate  an  excellent  dinner 
at  the  United  Universities  Club,  of  which  he  had 
recently  been  elected  a  member,  played  a  careful  rubber 
at  whist,  and  never  thought  again  of  Ethel  Torphichan- 
Stirling  till  he  was  winding  his  watch. 

"  A  decidedly  handsome  girl !  "  he  said,  yawning  as 
he  spoke,  and  then  started  at  the  sound  of  his  own 
voice.  For  before  him  rose  all  suddenly  the  vision  of 
a  hot  moorland  day,  a  stile,  a  crushed  straw  hat,  and  — 
something  he  had  seen  beneath  the  shade  of  a  white 
linen  sunbonnet. 


194 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THE    WAY   TO    FALL    IN    LOVE 

"TT    WAS  glad    to    hear  it,  my  boy,"  said    his  father, 

I     greeting  Carus,   heartily   for  him  ;    "  Sir  Sylvanus 
-■-    told  me  you  were  frequently  at  the  house  and,  as 
you  know,  nothing  could  please  me  better.      I  am  under 
very  special  and  personal  obligations  to  Torphichan." 

"  Which  as  usual  you  would  like  somebody  else  to 
discharge,"  was  the  phrase  that  leaped  to  the  tip  of  his 
son's  tongue.  But  he  also  was  anxious  to  keep  the 
peace,  so  the  words  remained  unspoken. 

Father  and  son  did  not  live  together  in  town.  They 
did  not  belong  to  the  same  clubs.  Their  only  common 
meeting-ground  was  the  pavement,  where,  when  they 
encountered,  they  stopped  with  forced  smiles  and  gin- 
gerly politeness,  more  like  dogs  smelling  each  other  in 
the  armed  neutrality  of  mutual  distrust,  than  like  a 
father  and  his  only  son. 

"  Come  along  and  dine  with  me  to-night,  my  boy," 
said  Lord  Darroch,  with  a  sham  heartiness  which  sat 
ill  on  him  and  deceived  no  one  —  not  even  himself. 

"Sorry  I  can't,  sir,"  said  Carus,  smiling  —  "the  fact 
is " 

He  allowed  Lord  Darroch  to  see  a  pretty  bouquet  of 
roses  which  he  was  carrying  as  unobtrusively  as  possible 
in  a  paper  twist  —  a  sign  that  Carus  had  not  far  to  go. 
For,  like  all  men,  he  hated  to  carry  anything  on  the 
street. 

I9S 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL     IN     LOVE 

"  Ah,  you  dog  !  "  said  his  father,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  pinching  him  confidentially  on  the  arm,  "  get 
along  with  you,  you  young  rascal.  I  used  to  do  the 
same  kind  of  thing,  but  you  have  a  more  considerate 
parent  than  I  had.  For  my  father  would  have  made  me 
dine  with  him  whether  I  liked  it  or  not.  But  I  never 
believe  in  being  too  hard  on  the  young." 

But,  alas,  the  visit  turned  out  quite  otherwise  !  Carus 
was  not  asked  to  dine  at  Empress  Gate.  Instead,  he 
accepted  an  informal  invitation  from  Tom,  whom  he 
often  met  on  the  stairs,  to  go  up  to  his  rooms  after 
he  had  got  through  with  Eth  and  Claudia  in  the  Blue 
Drawing-room. 

This  Ethel  tacitly  resented  when  he  declared  it,  and 
she  strove  by  every  means  in  her  power  to  detain  him, 
even  to  the  extent  of  bidding  Timson  say  "  Not  at  home" 
to  the  other  young  men  who  called  later,  and  getting  the 
room  cleared  of  the  tea-tables  at  an  early  hour.  Then, 
when  all  was  ready,  she  raised  her  eyelids  meaningly 
to  Claudia,  who,  however,  being  a  little  cross  at  what 
she  considered  her  sister's  selfishness,  did  not  immediately 
respond.  Carus  showed  signs  of  moving  also,  so  that 
Ethel,  with  a  simplicity  of  method  which  made  her  a 
power,  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  the  new  Fig  Marigold 
in  the  conservatory.  Carus  replied  that  he  had  not, 
whereupon  she  rose  and  led  the  way,  turning  at  the 
same  time  a  fierce  frown  upon  Claudia  when  she  thought 
that  Carus  did  not  see.  But  the  young  man  caught  the 
significant  gesture,  and,  naturally  enough  interpreting 
it  to  mean  that  he  had  stayed  too  long,  he  promptly 
discovered  an  engagement,  and  took  his  departure  with 
disconcerting  suddenness. 

At  once  Ethel  developed  an  astonishing  frigidity.  A 
wmter  of  discontent  fairly  Arctic  in  its  severity  descended 

196 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL     IN     LOVE 

upon  her  countenance,  and  instead  of  shaking  hands 
warmly,  as  was  her  custom,  she  bowed  the  astonished 
Carus  out  of  the  room  as  if  he  had  been  a  chance 
intruder.  He  had  begun  to  be  sufficiently  familiar  at 
Empress  Gate  to  leave  his  hat  and  umbrella  without, 
and  now  he  found  himself  searching  for  them  in  the 
dusk  of  the  curtained  hall,  in  a  kind  of  wondering 
maze.  It  did  not  matter,  of  course,  but  what  could  the 
girl  mean  ? 

Then  all  at  once  he  remembered  his  promise  to  Tom. 
After  his  declaration  to  Ethel  about  the  pressing  engage- 
ment, he  certainly  could  not  go  up  to  his  rooms.  Yet 
Tom  might  be  waiting  in  for  him.  So  he  tore  a  leaf 
from  his  notebook  and  scribbled  a  line  or  two  upon  it, 
resting  the  scrap  of  paper  on  the  edge  of  the  iron 
calorifer  by  the  wall. 

Carus  looked  for  some  one  to  carry  the  note  upstairs. 
No  servant  seemed  to  be  about.  It  was  dusk,  and  that 
ambiguous  hour  on  the  confines  of  dinner  when  the 
service  of  hotels  and  great  houses  becomes,  if  not  dis- 
organised, at  least  temporarily  invisible. 

Suddenly  and  silently  a  door  behind  him  opened, 
and  Carus  saw  a  girl's  figure  pass  across  the  hall  in  the 
direction  of  the  great  staircase.  A  tallish  slim  shape  it 
was,  clad  in  black.  The  girl's  head  was  turned  away 
from  him.  He  could  see  no  more  than  the  curve  of  a 
check  and  that  graceful  poise  of  neck,  which  comes 
naturally  to   women   who   dance  well. 

Something  seemed  to  tell  Carus  that  this  was  his 
opportunity.  He  was  afraid  of  Ethel  coming  down- 
stairs and  finding  him  still  lingering  there.  He  did 
not  want  to  break  his  word  to  Tom,  though  probably 
that  young  gentleman  would  not  have  been  greatly 
concerned  if  he  had.      He  knew  that  this  girl   could  not 

'97 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL    IN     LOVE 

be  one  of  the  family.  As  certainly  she  was  not  a 
visitor.  He  had  it  —  Miss  Martin,  the  invaluable  in- 
visible Miss  Martin,  of  whom  Mrs.  Torphichan-Stirling 
had  many  times  spoken  to  him,  even  unto  boredom. 
All  this  went  rapidly  through  his  mind  as  the  girl 
passed  across  the  hall  and  set  foot  on  the  staircase. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  —  Miss  Martin,"  said  Carus, 
hesitating  a  moment  over  the  name,  "  but  I  am  anxious 
that  Mr.  Tom  should  get  this  note  at  once.  I  cannot 
find  any  of  the  servants.  Would  you  be  good  enough  — 
if  you  are  going  up  —  if  I  might  ask  ?  —  Thank  you  !  " 

The  girl  had  stopped  on  the  lowest  step,  one  hand 
on  the  balusters  looking  back  and  downwards  at 
him.  The  head  and  features  were  profiled  against  the 
dim  richness  of  the  painted  staircase  window  which 
encircled  them  with  a  kind  of  halo  like  that  which 
enshrines  a  saint.  She  held  out  her  hand  for  the  note 
without  speaking,  bowed  slightly,  and  moved  away 
upstairs  with  a  certain  free  wilfulness  of  carriage  which 
seemed  to  Carus  particularly  attractive,  though  it 
appeared  to  him  curiously  out  of  keeping  with  the 
character  of  the  immaculate  nursery  governess,  as 
revealed  to  him  by   Mrs.  Torphichan-Stirling. 

But  after  all,  that  was  not  the  strangest  thing.  It 
was  the  impression  upon  his  mind  that  he  had  seen  the 
girl  somewhere  before.  She  had  reached  the  turn  of 
the  staircase  while  he  still  stood  at  the  foot  with  his 
hat  in  his  hand.  Then  he  spoke  again.  "  Thank  you, 
Miss  Martin  !  "  he  said.  And  in  the  dusk  of  the  empty 
hall  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  came  back  to  Carus 
Darroch  with  a  certain  mocking  flavour.  At  the  same 
moment  the  antique  eight-day  clock  half  way  up  the 
staircase  struck  with  a  whirr  and  tingle  like  sudden 
impish  laughter.     And  at  the  sound   Carus  fled.     Was 

198 


"Thank  yoi;,  Miss  Maktin!'  hk  .saiij.* 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL     IN     LOVE 

he  thinking  of  the  anger  of  Ethel   Torphichan  as    he 
walked  away   from  the  door  ? 

Curiously,  no !  He  was  recalling  the  graceful  figure 
and  wild-wood  carriage  of  the  unknown  maid  as  she 
passed  up  the  staircase.  How  strange  it  was  that  Tom, 
a  professed  admirer  of  beauty,  and  often  almost  too 
frankly  oratory  about  it,  should  never  have  mentioned 
this  paragon  to  him.  But  again,  after  all,  what  did  it 
matter  ? 

All  the  same,  the  young  man  was  sure  that  he  had 
seen  somebody  like  that  before,  he  could  not  remember 
where.  And  the  momentary  touch  of  the  girl's  hand 
as  the  note  passed  between  them  thrilled  him  with  a 
recalled  delight,  like  a  cast-back  into  some  previous 
existence  of  unknown  happiness.  Then  her  carriage  — 
he  had  seen  something  like  it  once,  when  a  startled 
fawn  cleared  a  low  wall,  stood  one  moment  wildly  at 
gaze,  looking  back  at  him,  and  then  bounded  away  up 
the  slope.    -So  this  girl  had  vanished  out  of  his  sight. 

But  it  was  the  look  she  left  behind  that  rankled  in 
his  mind.  It  was  like  a  barbed  arrow  in  his  breast. 
He  had  not  been  able  to  see  the  girl's  eyes.  They 
were  lost  in  the  darkness  of  her  face,  which  she  had 
obstinately  kept  in  shadow.  He  had  only  a  general 
feeling  that  they  were  large  and  dark  and  luminous  — 
in  fact,  like  those  of  the  startled  fawn.  They  seemed 
to  reproach  him  —  yet  for  what?  Carus  felt  himself 
singularly  free  from  all  reproach.  Ethel  Torphichan 
—  why  should  he  not  marry  her?  Did  it  really  make 
any  difference  whether  she  had  money  or  not,  or  if  his 
father  and  her  father  wished  this  marriage  as  a 
business  arrangement  ?  That  was  neither  his  fault  nor 
hers.  Besides,  anything  romantic  was  absurd.  Every 
one  did  it  nowadays.      He  owed  it  to  his  family.      Every 

199 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL     IN    LOVE 

other  fellow  similarly  situated  had  to  do  it,  and  why 
not  he  ?  Besides,  Ethel  was  a  very  pretty  girl,  and  — 
what  if  he  did  not  love  her?  Love  was  a  figment  of 
the  poets.  He  had  often  laughed  at  it  with  other 
young  men.  He  liked  well  enough  to  read  about  it  in 
books  —  but,  after  all,  it  had  no  place  in  practical  life, 
when  you  brought  things  down  to  a  fine  point. 

Nevertheless,  Carus  looked  back  several  times  at  the 
gloomy  house  in  Empress  Gate  as  he  walked  away. 
And  he  was  not  thinking  at  all  about  Ethel  Torphichan, 
as  by  his  own  showing  he  ought  to  have  been.  Instead, 
he  was  carrying  away  a  little  aching  place  nearly  opposite 
the  third  stud  in  his  shirt-front,  which  had  no  business 
to  be  there.  It  was  all  too  absurd.  But  it  was  also 
undeniable. 

As  he  looked  back  momentarily  he  saw  someone  in 
huge  and  hatless  haste  dash  across  the  road  after  him. 

"  Hallo,  Darroch ! "  the  voice  was  Tom's.  He 
stopped  in  wonderment,  and  the  reckless  scion  of  the 
house  of  Torphichan-Stirling  dashed  up  to  him  with  the 
clatter  of  a  fire-engine. 

"  You  are  a  nice  fellow,  sneaking  off  like  this  —  when 
I  was  waiting  for  you  more  than  an  hour.  And  sending 
up  that  rot  about  an  engagement,  as  if  it  had  been  a 
dinner  of  the  old  fogey  philanthropists  you  were  getting 
out  of.  Look  here,  Darroch,  are  you  doing  anything 
to-night?  No  —  then  Vic  wants  you  —  I  mean  I  want 
you.  She  and  I  have  a  ploy  on  hand.  We  generally 
run  in  double  harness,  you  know.  What  do  you  say  to 
dining  at  Beritsky's  and  going  somewhere  after  ?  It 's 
Vic's  little  treat.  The  other  two,  Ethel  and  Claudia, 
are  going  out  later,  and  will  be  having  a  snack  in  their 
own  rooms  as  they  tittivate.  The  Powers-that-be  are 
away  laying  the  foundation-stone  of  something  or  other. 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL     IN     LOVE 

The  governor  has  got  a  hodful  of  silver  trowels  already. 
You  '11  come,  eh  ?  Good  —  meet  you  at  eight  —  Berit- 
sky's,  in  Greek  Street,  vou  know  —  sharp.      S'  long  !  " 

A  thought  occurred  to  Carus. 

"  Who  was  it  gave  you  the  note  I  addressed  to  you  ?  " 

But  Tom  was  alreadv  down  the  street.  He  paused, 
howc\cr,  at  the  sound  of  the  Master's  voice. 

"Eh,  what's  that.''  Certainly  not — don't  dress  — 
never  do  at  all.  I  must  hook  it,  or  I  '11  get  a  beastly 
cold  in  my  head.      Sec  you  at  eight !  " 

And  Tom  was  gone.  Carus  Darroch  walked  slowly 
home,  whistling  softly  and  smiling  occasionally  in  spite 
of  the  little  pain  under  his  third  stud.  It  was  Conscience 
pressing  a  button  which  rang  a  little  irritant  t-rrrrrrrrrr 
in  his  heait  like  an  electric  bell  outside  one's  bedroom- 
door  at  an  Embankment  hotel.  Carus  remembered 
inventing  a  certain  little  clip,  a  circle  with  a  watch-spring 
in  the  middle  which,  being  placed  over  a  bedroom  electric 
button,  caused  it  to  ring  till  the  waiter  came.  The 
thing  in  his  breast  was  like  that.  But  he  would  find 
out  more  from  Tom  that  night.  It  would  be  pleasant 
enough.  Vic  was  certainly  a  very  handsome  girl  — 
dashing,  excellent  form,  and  a  good  sort.  Why  should 
he  not  go?  Flthel  might  be  angry  —  but,  after  all, 
that  might  prove  even  more  interesting.  Miss  Torphi- 
chan-Stirling  did  not  consult  him  as  to  how  she  should 
spend  her  evenings.  And  —  he  would  find  out  about 
Miss  Martin. 

Then  a  sudden  thought  crossed  him.  Why  had 
Tom  been  so  anxious  to  forward  Vic's  plans  ?  The 
adage  about  "  two  being  company  "  and  its  annex  were 
certainly  firmly  held  by  Tom.  Could  it  be  that  he  had 
been  keeping  dark  —  and  that  Miss  Martin  would  also 
be  of  the  party  ?     What  a  simpleton  he  had  been  !      Ot 

20I 


THE     WAY     TO     FALL    IN     LOVE 

course  that  was  it !  They  could  not  go  without  Vic. 
They  must  have  somebody  to  amuse  the  gooseberry. 
He  was  young  and  innocent,  and  Vic  easy  minded. 
Hence  this  sudden  burst  of  friendliness  on  Tom's  part. 
Well,  he  would  go  —  (savagely)  and  if  it  should  turn 
out  to  be  as  he  thought 

He  did  not  fill  in  the  hiatus. 

And  it  never  struck  Cams  that,  being  supposed  to  be 
the  property  of  Ethel  in  the  Empress  Gate  house,  all 
this  was  emphatically  none  of  his  business. 


202 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

HESTER    HAS    AN    AUDIENCE 

THE  party  came  off  duly,  but  Carus  had  guessed 
entirely  wrong.  Tom  and  Vic  turned  up  by 
themselves.  The  bond  that  was  between  them 
was  of  the  strongest  possible  to  brother  and  sister. 
They  were  the  best  of  good  friends,  and  Tom  used  to 
say  that  he  would  do  more  for  Vic  than  for  any  girl 
alive  —  an  opinion,  however,  which  he  did  not  state  so 
frequently  of  late  as  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  doing. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  Carus  was  more  dis- 
appointed or  relieved.  But  Vic  had  certainly  nothing  to 
complain  of  in  the  attention  of  either  of  her  cavaliers. 
Yet  she  did  not  flirt  with  Carus.  Vic  appeared  to  him 
more  like  a  handsome  younger  brother,  whom  the  young 
men  were  taking  about  town  for  the  first  time,  than  a 
girl  of  excellent  parentage  and  upbringing  doing  an 
unusual  thing.  She  was  gay  and  bright,  and  Tom  had 
much  pride  in  her  appearance.  Only  once  was  a  word 
said  which  gave  Carus  the  least  opening  to  ask  the 
question  next  his  heart.  They  were  watching  a  dance 
from  which  activity  had  emphatically  banished  grace. 
Vic  looked  over  at  Tom  with  a  slightly  teasing 
smile. 

"  We  know  someone  who  could  walk  all  round  these 
people  !  "  she  said. 

Tom  looked  conscious,  and  a  blush  slowly  mounted 
to  his  cheek. 

203 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

"  Shut  up,  Vic!"  he  said,  quickly.  "You  know  she 
would  die  of  shame  if  she  thought  any  one  knew  about 
it  —  it  is  n't  fair." 

"  Who  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Cams,  eagerly  ;  "  is  it 
—  ah,  Miss  Martin  ?  " 

Tom  took  one  look  at  him,  choked  instantly,  and  even 
Vic  laughed  merrily  into  her  handkerchief. 

"Yes — yes,"  said  Tom,  when  he  could  command 
himself,  "  of  course  it  is  Miss  Martin  —  Ha-ha,  yes,  of 
course  !  I  say,  Vic,  no  wonder  Darroch  has  been  so 
much  at  our  house  lately.  He  's  been  sneaking  round 
to  get  a  chance  to  mash  Miss  Martin  in  the  school- 
room !  " 

But  fate  was  kinder,  or  (as  the  case  might  be)  more 
cruel,  to  Carus  than  his  friends  Tom  and  Vic. 

On  his  return  to  his  hotel  that  night  there  lay  a  large 
square  letter  upon  the  table  of  the  sitting-room.  The 
size  of  the  missive  and  the  huge  angular  handwriting, 
like  a  paper  of  pins  or  rather  a  battalion  of  trees  laid 
over  by  a  storm,  betrayed  her  Grace  of  Niddisdale. 

"  Grandmother  always  writes  as  if  she  had  a  spite  at 
the  pens  and  paper  !  "  said  Carus,  smiling  as  he  took 
the  massive  British  square  of  envelope  in  his  hand.  In 
one  place  the  pen  had  cut  right  through  the  sheet,  and 
in  another  there  was  a  perfect  inky  bombshell  where  the 
hard-driven  nib  had  exploded  with  great  slaughter. 

"  Carus,"  her  ladyship  began,  as  usual  without  address 
or  ceremony,  "  I  am  coming  up  to  town.  The  garden 
is  at  a  standstill,  and  I  defy  even  a  scientific  Scotch 
gardener  to  make  any  mistakes  for  the  next  two  months. 
So  I  will  run  up  and  see  whether  or  not  you  are  behav- 
ing yourself,  and  if  you  have  taken  my  advice  —  about, 
you  know  what !      I  daresay  you  walk  every  day  in  the 

204 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

park  with  the  Old  Adam.  Ugh,  the  wretch  !  Asking 
your  pardon,  Carus,  /  could  n't  help  your  being  his  son. 
I  can  see  how  he  looks  about  him  as  if  every  woman 
were  an  aboriginal  Eve.  But  I  will  teach  you  something 
better  when  I  arrive.  You  shall  squire  7ne  to  the  park 
and  see  your  grandmother  cut  your  father  dead.  That 
will  be  a  new  sensation  for  a  son  and  should  be  valuable 
to  an  amateur  in  impressions  like  yourself ! 

"  How  about  the  divinity  of  Empress  Gate  ?  Have 
you  done  your  dutv  there,  and  found  it  a  pleasure  ?  I 
hear  she  is  both  a  pretty  and  a  presentable  girl.  I  must 
see  her.  Call  on  me  to-morrow  morning  at  Scotstarvit 
House  about  eleven,  and  if  I  am  not  down,  wait  for 
me!" 

The  note  ended  suddenly  without  signature  as  it  had 
begun  without  formula.      Carus  smiled  again. 

"Grandmother  is  uncomfortable  —  she  wants  to  find 
out  what  my  father  is  up  to,  and  to  appraise  the  Tor- 
phichan  hoysehold  for  herself." 

However,  he  was  up  betimes  the  following  morning, 
and  instead  of  sending  flowers  of  penitence  to  Ethel, 
with  whom  he  had  parted  coolly  the  night  before,  he 
must  needs  call  round  at  Scotstarvit  House,  and  send 
a  bouquet  up  to  his  grandmother  with  a  card.  Carus 
knew  well  that  she  would  scold  him  for  the  extrava- 
gance, but  that  the  old  lady  would  be  pleased  all  the 
same. 

So  he  spent  part  of  one  of  her  own  banknotes  on  the 
prettiest  bouquet  money  could  buy  at  Solomon's  in 
Piccadilly,  and  strolled  westward  with  it  in  his  hand, 
not  a  whit  ashamed  as  he  had  been  of  Ethel's  much 
inferior  bunch,  but  opcnlv  smiling  at  every  accjuaintance 
he  met  and,  as  it  were,  courting  their  comments. 

"  Hello,    Darroch,    have    you    been    out    getting    a 
205 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

special  licence  as  well?"  cried  his  friend  Archie 
MacCulloch,  from  the  steps  of  the  Orchid  Club,  which 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  decorating  for  the  best  part  of 
the  day. 

"  No,"  said  Carus,  sweetly,  "  I  am  taking  these  up 
to   my  grandmother  !  " 

And  he  went  on  his  way,  enjoying  his  friend's  loud 
unbelief  hugely. 

At  Scotstarvit  House  he  scribbled  on  a  card,  "  With 
loving  greetings  from  Carus  to  his  oldest  and  only 
sweetheart !  " 

"Will  you  wait  for  an  answer,  sir?  "  said  the  man. 

"  Oh,  no,  James,"  said  Carus,  who  was  beloved  of 
all  servants  everywhere,  "  I  am  coming  back  at  eleven 
to  attend  her  Grace  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  sir !  "  said  James  the  formal. 

Punctually  at  eleven  Carus  stepped  out  of  the  hansom 
at  his  grandmother's  door.  The  old  lady  was  not  yet 
down,  so  Carus  was  shown  up  to  her  boudoir.  Here 
he  waited,  looking  over  some  of  the  full-flavoured 
French  novels  which  lay  about  on  tables  and  couches, 
mixed  with  Dean  Hole  "  On  Roses "  and  copies  of 
The  Gardener's  Chronicle.  Presently  he  heard  the  voice 
of  her  Grace  of  Niddisdale,  as  the  stage  directions  say, 
"  without." 

"  If  I  don't  box  that  silly  boy's  ears  —  wasting  his 
money,  and  most  likely  my  money,  on  flowers  for  an 
old  woman  as  blind  as  a  bat,  with  a  nose  that  is  good 
for  nothing  except  poking  into  other  people's  affairs. 
Wait  till   I   catch   him  !  " 

The  door  opened  and  his  grandmother  entered,  scold- 
ing all  the  time  at  the  top  of  her  voice. 

"  Ah,  you  rascal  "  —  she  stopped  at  the  threshold  and 
threatened    Carus    with    her    bony    forefinger  — "  you 

206 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

thought  to  catch  an  old  bird  with  chafF,  did  you  ?  I 
know  very  well  what  to  think  when  young  men  spend 
good  red  guineas  on  flowers  for  their  grandmothers  — 
thev  think  they  are  casting  bread  upon  the  waters. 
You  want  something,  you  vagabond.  Come,  give  me  a 
kiss,  and  let  me  pull  your  ears,  then  you  can  tell  me 
what  it  is.  Have  you  spent  all  I  gave  you  already  ? 
And  now  you  want  more  ?  What,  it 's  not  that !  Then 
you  can  tell  me  what  it  is.  Been  making  a  fool  of 
yourself  and  want  me  to  help  you  out  ?  Well,  I  '11  do 
my  best.  The  only  thing  I  bar  is  having  to  be  civil  to 
_  the  old " 

"  No,  no,  granny,"  said  Carus,  laughing ;  *'  indeed, 
I  don't  want  anything  in  the  world,  except  to  have  a 
good  long  talk  with  you.  You  are  better  worth  talking 
to  than  any  chit  of  them  all  —  you  know  I  always  have 
thought  so." 

"  Don't  perjure  yourself  overmuch,  boy,"  said  her 
Grace,  highly  pleased  ;  "  remember  the  Recording  Angel 
is  not  taking  a  holiday,  if  you  are  !  Now  tell  me,  how 
goes  the  love  affair  ?  Tell  me  all  about  her,  and  no 
more  compliments  to  a  wizened  old  woman  with  a  false 
front,  and  less  than  half-a-dozen  practicable  teeth  in  her 
head  !  " 

Had  the  invitation  been  given  twenty-four  hours 
sooner  it  might  have  at  once  pleased  and  embarrassed 
Carus  to  answer.      But  now  he  was  perfectly  cool. 

"  It  is  true,  grandm(jther,  that  I  have  been  often  at 
Empress  Gate,  but  that  is  honestly  all,"  he  said,  smil- 
ing; "it  is  a  pleasant  house,  and  the  girls  are  all  prttty 
in  their  way.      I  like  Tom  and " 

"  Y(ju  put  up  with  the  baronet  and  the  mother-in-law  ! 
Well,  but  what  I  want  to  know  is,  have  you  pleased 
your  father  and  fallen  in  love  with  the  right  girl.''  " 

207 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

"  I  have  not  fallen  in  love  in  the  least,  grandmother," 
said  Carus,  "  neither  to  please  my  father  nor  yet  to  dis- 
please him.  I  like  Miss  Torphichan-Stirling  very  much, 
and  she  is  most  agreeable  to  me.  I  have  certainly  seen 
more  of  her  than  of  any  of  the  others." 

"  I  suppose  the  baronet  arranges  that,  or  perhaps 
the  lady  herself.  Has  it  ever  struck  you,  Carus,  that 
you  are  a  very  proper  young  man  of  your  inches  —  and 
you  have  a  goodly  number  of  these  ?  " 

"Glad  you  think  so,  grandmother;  I  don't  care  what 
any  one  else  thinks." 

"  No  more  flattery,  sir,"  cried  the  old  lady,  shaking 
her  finger  at  him  again ;  "  and  then  you  have  an  excel- 
lent title,  better  than  half-a-dozen  mushroom  earldoms 
and  political  marquisates.  Why,  it  is  older  than  Nid- 
disdale's  !  A  good  many  mammas  would  jump  at  you, 
Carus  !  " 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  come  to  Tattersall's  if  I 
put  myself  up  —  in  flocks,  I  mean  ?  Something  like  this, 
'  For  sale,  the  only  son  of  a  Scottish  peer,  old  creation, 
pedigree  guaranteed,  no  vices,  broken  to  harness, 
single  or  double,  any  lady  may  drive  him,  warranted 
sound  in  wind  and  limb  ! '  That  would  draw  'em,  eh, 
grandmamma  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  you  might 
do  worse.  But  see  that  you  don't  enter  into  any  con- 
tract with  the  diamond  merchant's  daughter  till  you 
see  the  settlements.  Remember  that  your  father  has 
only  his  debts  to  settle  on  you.  So  if  the  pair  of  you 
want  to  have  anything  to  live  on,  you  had  better  make 
sure  of  it  before  marriage  !  " 

"What  a  mercenary  old  lady!"  said  Carus,  smiling 
fondly  at  her.  "  It  is  a  pity  that  it  says  on  the  flyleaf 
of   the    Prayer-book    that    a   man    may   not    marry    his 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

grandmother.  If  it  had  n't  been  for  that  I  'd  have 
married  you,  certain  sure,  grandmother,  and  never 
looked   at  any  contracts.*' 

Her  Grace  tweaked  her  favourite's  ear,  and  when 
Carus  pretended  to  wince,  she  said,  "  I  told  you  what 
would  happen  the  next  time.  But  to  be  serious,  I  must 
see  this  Torphichan  household.  I  declare,  the  sooner 
the  better.  I  will  go  with  you  this  afternoon  and  call 
on  the  girls.  Come  back  for  mc  at  five  if  you  have 
nothing  better  to  do." 

"  I  could  have  nothing  half  so  good  to  do,"  said 
Carus,  gladly.  He  really  loved  the  outspoken  and 
eccentric  old  lady.  She  had  been  the  only  friend  and 
confidante  of  his  youth,  his  loyal  and  silent  helper  out 
of  many  a  schoolboy  scrape,  the  benevolent  fairy  who 
supplemented  his  meagre  allowance  at  college,  so  that 
he  could  boat  and  belong  to  those  clubs  and  associa- 
tions which  make  all  the  difference  between  being  of  a 
good  college  and  at  it. 

So  promptly  at  five  Carus  was  again  at  Scotstarvit 
House.  His  grandmother  sat  ready  for  him  and  the 
carriage  was  in  waiting.  Carus,  who  hated  four  wheels, 
would  have  preferred  a  hansom,  but  at  the  first  sugges- 
tion my  lady  of  Niddisdale  flared  up. 

"Do  you  think,"  she  cried,  as  she  ensconced  herself 
comfortably,  "that  I  am  going  to  trust  my  old  bones 
to  one  of  those  gimcrack,  two-story,  one-shaving-thick, 
standing-on-end  things,  that  the  bottom  may  drop  out 
of  any  minute  and  strew  you  all  along  the  street  like 
spilt  straw  out  of  a  waggon  ?  Besides,  Carus,  your  new 
diamond-and-pills  baronet  won't  object  to  the  Niddis- 
dale colours  being  seen  opposite  his  door !  I  know 
these  creatures !  " 

Timson  it  was  who  opened  the  door.  Being  a  man 
i4  209 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

of  many  services  he  knew  the  Niddisdale  liveries,  and 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  person  of  her  Grace.  He 
was,  however,  somewhat  flustered  by  her  ladyship's 
quick,  imperious  address.  He  started  hastily  to  show 
Carus  and  his  grandmother  upstairs. 

"  Now,  my  good  man,"  cried  the  lady,  "  not  so  fast. 
When  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  you  '11  begin  to  think  on 
your  latter  end  when  you  go  upstairs  quickly  !  " 

So  it  came  about  that  the  party  mounted  very  slowly, 
and  Timson,  anxious  that  the  best  apartment  in  the 
house  should  receive  such  a  guest,  and  seeing  a  light  in 
the  great  drawing-room,  threw  open  the  door,  and  then 
quickly  catching  sight  of  what  was  going  on  at  the  other 
end,  he  would  even  more  quickly  have  closed  it  again. 

But  her  imperious  Grace  of  Niddisdale  put  him  aside, 
at  the  same  time  motioning  him  to  be  silent.  Under  a 
couple  of  tall  lamps,  which  shed  a  lustre  down  upon 
her  head,  a  young  girl  was  dancing  alone  on  the  little 
band  platform.  A  little  behind,  and  screened  by  the 
lamps,  the  shrunk  shanks  of  an  aged  man  twitched  and 
skipped  as  if  their  owner  longed  to  join  so  fair  a  partner. 
The  music-master's  chin  sunk  on  his  breast  nuzzled  the 
violin  to  whose  music  the  girl  danced.  Daintily  yet 
with  full  abapdon  and  verve  she  danced,  with  all  the 
innocent  delight  of  perfect  physique  and  admirable 
training.  It  seemed  a  kind  of  unconscious  rejoicing  in 
life  and  youth.  Yet  there  was  "something  conspicuously 
virginal  and  pure  about  the  performance,  and  in  all  the 
lightning  pauses  and  poses,  through  all  the  mysteries  of 
waving  lines  and  woven  paces,  there  went  the  sense  of 
childish  happiness  in  a  glad  and  pure  thing.  Even  so 
Nausicaa's  maidens  danced  on  the  beach  unseen  of  any 
man,  while  the  waves  of  the  Midland  sea  broke  about 
them  in  foam  less  white  than  the  feet  they  bathed. 

210 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

Carus  looked  over  her  Grace's  shoulder.  He  breathed 
quick  and  short  as  he  watched,  and  his  heart  beat 
violentlv.  The  Fates  had  been  kind  indeed,  l^his  was 
the  girl  he  had  seen  on  the  stairs  in  the  dusk.  Presently, 
with  a  quick  flourish  of  flying  bow,  and  a  twinkle  of 
dainty  shoon,  the  lesson  was  over. 

"  Brava  !  "  cried  the  little  Frenchman,  gallantU',  and 
taking  his  fiddle  and  bow  both  in  one  hand,  he  dropped 
a  little  stiffly  but  still  cavalierly  on  one  knee,  "  I  make 
you  my  most  sincere  compleements.  Mademoiselle.  I 
can  teach  you  no  more.  Permit  me  to  kiss  your  hand. 
It  is  pairfect  —  magnifique  !  " 

"  Brava  !  Brava  indeed  !  "  chimed  in  her  ladyship 
from  the  dark  of  the  door  where  the  visitors  had  stood 
concealed.  She  came  forward  as  she  spoke,  holding  out 
her  hand. 

"I  did  not  think  there  was  an  amateur  in  London 
who  had  so  much  spirit  and  grace  —  why,  you  are  a 
beautv,  my'  dear,  or  will  be  very  soon.  Is  this  your 
Miss  Ethel,  sirrah  ?  " 

She  turned  upon  Carus,  who  stood  dumb  for  a 
moment  without  finding  any  answer.  "  No,  grand- 
mother," he  managed  to  stammer  at  last,  "it  is  Miss 
Martin  —  the  governess,  I  believe  !  " 

"  The  governess  !  "  cried  her  Grace,  "  ah,  you  rascal  ! 
You  dog  !  But  all  the  same  she  is  a  charming 
girl." 

Meanwhile,  the  old  Frenchman  had  been  making 
obeisance  after  obeisance.  He  also  knew  the  Duchess 
of  Niddisdale  by  sight,  having  in  days  long  past  taught 
the  present  Duke  his  steps  with  exceedingly  incomplete 
success. 

"  I  craif  your  Ciracc's  pardon,"  he  said,  "  but  this  so 
talented    young    lady   is    not    Mees    Martin,   but    Mecs 

21  I 


HESTER     HAS     AN     AUDIENCE 

Hestaire  Stirling,  zee  cozin  of  zee  young  ladies  of  this 
house ! " 

"  What,  my  dear,"  cried  the  impulsive  old  lady,  "  are 
you  Isobel  Stirling's  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  am  her  granddaughter,"  said  Hester,  quietly. 

''  But  bless  me,  bless  me,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 
she  continued,  looking  at  her  flushed  cheek  and  the 
little  foot  which  continued  to  show  agitation  by  tapping 
quickly  on  the  floor. 

"  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  is  my  aunt,  madam,"  said 
Hester,  hoping  soon  to  get  away ;  "  her  husband  is  my 
guardian.  Until  not  very  long  ago  I  was  brought  up 
by  some  kind  people  in  Scotland.  But  I  have  been 
here  nearly  three  years  now  —  my  uncle  sent  for  me  to 
come,  and  I  have  the  best  masters.  It  is  a  great 
advantage." 

"  But  I  have  never  seen  you  before,"  interposed 
Carus ;  "  you  cannot  be  the  little  Hester  Stirling  I  used 
to  see  with  the  minister  of  St.  John's  Parish.  How  you 
have  grown !  And  where  have  you  hidden  yourself 
whenever  I  came  ?  Did  you  not  want  to  recognise  an 
old  friend  .?  " 

"  I  am  mostly  in  the  schoolroom  with  the  children," 
said  Hester,  shyly,  "  but  I  have  seen  you  several  times 
• — at  a  distance  !  " 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Duchess,  "  you  must  come  and 
see  me  at  once  —  I  will  look  after  you  for  your  grand- 
mother's sake.  She  was  my  very  good  friend.  And 
besides  —  well,  wait  till  I  have  the  dressing  of  you, 
that 's  all !  " 

The  last  sentence  was  said  so  low  that  only  Carus 
heard  it. 


212 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

VIC    GETS    EVEN 

"  TT    BEG  your  Grace's  pardon,"   put  in  Timson,  at 

I     last    finding    his    opportunity,    "  but    the    young 

-^  ladies  are  waiting  your  pleasure  in  the  Blue 
Drawing-room  !  " 

"  Come  along  with  me,  my  dear,"  said  the  Duchess, 
putting  her  hand  on  the  girl's  shoulder;  "I  want  to 
talk  more  to  you  !  " 

"  I  think  they  would  not  like  it  if  I  came  up,"  said 
Hester ;  "  and  oh,  please  don't  say  that  you  have  seen 
me  dancing  !  " 

Hester  w.as  now  crimson  from  brow  to  neck. 

"  Very  well,  little  one,"  said  the  Duchess,  amiably ; 
"  I  am  no  tell-tale ;  go  off  and  make  yourself  look  like 
a  school-miss  again,  and  then  I  will  get  them  to  send 
for  you." 

Hester  went  off  so  quickly  that  she  seemed  simply 
to  fade  out  of  the  room,  so  swift  and  noiseless  were  her 
motions.  Then  something  rustled  in  the  hand  of  the 
Master  of  Darroch.  It  was  another  of  his  grand- 
mother's banknotes. 

"  And  don't  you  say  anything  of  this  either !  "  he 
whispered   to  Timson. 

"No,  sir  —  thank  you,  sir!"  said  Timson,  the  well- 
trained,  as  something  crisp  crackled  in  his  palm. 

"  Her  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Niddisdale  and  the 
Master  of  Darroch  !  " 

213 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

Ethel  was  sitting  by  the  tea-table,  and  she  rose  in- 
voluntarily at  the  names.  Claudia  had  assumed  her 
best  pose  by  the  mantelpiece.  Vic  was  sitting,  the 
image  of  sullen  despair,  on  the  ottoman,  her  chin  sunk 
on  her  hands.  She  had  been  haled  down  at  the  first 
news  that  a  carriage  with  the  ducal  liveries  had  paused 
before  the  door. 

"  Ah,  my  dears,"  said  the  Duchess,  after  she  had 
shaken  hands  all  round,  "  let  me  sit  down,  and  give  me 
a  dish  of  good  strong  tea.  Your  stairs  are  somewhat 
long  for  an  old  woman  like  me.  I  can  walk  with  any 
one  of  my  age  on  the  level,  but  going  upstairs  is  not 
forme.  Let  me  look  at  you  —  yes  —  yes,  you  are  all 
three  pretty  girls,  as  pretty  as  girls  have  any  right 
to  be.  You,  my  dear,  and  this  tall  young  lady  by  the 
mantelpiece  are  Torphichans,  I  must  suppose.  You 
are  not  like  any  Stirlings  that  ever  I  saw,  nor  like  your 
grandmother's  people  on  the  Stirling  side.  But  you, 
young  lady,"  nodding  to  Vic,  "  are  a  true  Stirling, 
temper  and  all !  " 

Instantly  Vic  forgot  her  sulks  at  being  haled  into 
the  presence  of  the  great.  She  smiled,  and  in  doing 
so  showed  her  wide,  well-formed  mouth  and  fine  white 
teeth. 

"  I  have  a  temper,  but  I  don't  keep  it  up  long,"  said 
Vic,  gratefully. 

"  You  did  n't  want  to  come  down,  eh  !  "  guessed  the 
old  lady,  gleefully ;  "  you  thought  that  I  would  turn  out 
to  be  a  meddlesome  old  frump  !  " 

"  Something  like  it,"  quoth  downright  Vic  ;  "  besides, 
you  know,  I  was  with  Tom  up  in  his  den,  and  did  n't 
want  to  have  to  come." 

"  You  have  been  with  some  Tom  —  or  Toms  —  you 
smell  sadly  of  smoke,  my  dear,"  said  the  Duchess. 

214 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

Claudia  signalled  furiously  to  Ethel.  "  Did  I  not  tell 
you  she  would  disgrace  us  ?  " 

"And,  now,"  continued  her  Grace,  "tell  me  which 
of  you  is  Ethel." 

"  /  am,"  said  that  young  lady,  with  a  slight  blush. 
It  was  evident  now  who  Carus  Darroch  had  been 
talking  about  to  his  distinguished  relative.  The 
Duchess  looked  a  little  disappointed,  as  if  she  could 
have  wished  it  had  been  Vic.  But  she  turned  to  the 
girl  with  the  greatest  good  humour,  and  began  telling 
her  about  the  ball  she  intended  to  give  in  honour  of 
the  coming  of  age  of  Niddisdale's  eldest  son,  young 
Lord   Kipford. 

It  was  pretty  enough  (and  Carus  would  have  thought 
so  if  his  heart  had  not  been  elsewhere)  to  watch  the 
interest  kindle  on  the  girls'  faces  at  the  mere  mention 
of  a  ball.  Ethel  looked  at  Darroch  to  see  if  he  were 
elated,  but  he  was  somewhat  moodily  pulling  his 
moustache.  It  struck  her  that  he  was  disgusted  with 
them  all  on  account  of  Vic's  forwardness. 

"You  know,  poor  dear  Niddisdale's  wife  died  young, 
and  he  never  married  again,  so  we  all  want  Kipford 
not  be  too  long  in  throwing  the  glove.  I  for  one  shall 
not  be  sorry  to  see  him  settled.  A  young  man  is 
always  best  married  early  to  a  good  girl,  when  he  can 
afford  it.  And  when  your  turn  comes,  don't  v"u  say 
him  nav  if  he's  a  good  man,  my  dear  !  "  continued  the 
Duchess,  touching  Ethel's  pretty  chin. 

"  My  father  and  mother  will  be  sorry  not  to  have  been 
at  home  when  you  called,"  said  Ethel,  certain  that  she 
was  not  acquitting  herself  well,  but  not  knowing  what  to 
talk  ab(jut.  She  was  never  at  a  loss  with  men,  but  with 
such  a  very  unconventional  aristocrat  as  the  old  Duchess 
of  Niddisdale,  it  was  not  so  simple. 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

"Oh,  don't  trouble  about  that,"  said  the  easy 
Duchess,  "  I  will  come  again  soon.  I  want  a  subscrip- 
tion for  my  Children's  Hospital.  That  's  the  way  we 
fleece  one  another,  you  know.  Has  your  father  been 
buying  another  estate  ?  I  hear  he  is  possessing  himself 
of  all  the  countryside.  He  had  better  have  stuck  to 
his  diamonds.  Clods  don't  pay  nowadays,  except  in 
cemeteries  !  " 

Then  she  looked  round  the  room  as  if  missing 
something. 

"  But  where  is  my  little  Hester  ?  I  hear  that  you 
have  her  stowed  away  somewhere  !  She  is  an  old  friend 
of  mine.  In  fact,  I  believe  I  am  her  godmother,  as 
well  as  her  father's  "  (the  Duchess  had  an  imagination). 
"  I  want  to  see  her.  Will  you  let  Carus  ring  and  send 
for  her  ? " 

There  came  an  instantaneous  cloud  on  the  faces  of 
Ethel  and  Claudia.  Indeed  the  elder  began,  "  Your 
Grace,  I  am  afraid  Hester  is  not  prepared.  She  did 
not  know  of  your  coming.  She  is  very  young,  and 
remains  mostly  with  the  children  !  " 

"Oh,  nonsense,  my  dears,"  said  the  Duchess;  "I  am 
not  a  Gorgon  —  send  for  her  this  minute.  I  want  to  see 
if  the  child  is  pretty.     She  must  come  to  my  ball " 

"  I  do  not  think  that  she  can  dance,"  said  Claudia, 
"  and  I  am  sure  she  would  feel  most  uncomfortable." 

At  which  statement  Vic  pouted  her  mouth  as  if  she 
were  going  to  whistle,  but  instead  of  doing  so  she 
jumped  up  and  said  heartily,  "  Don't  ring ;  I  will  run 
and  fetch  her  myself!  " 

Whereat  Ethel  glared  at  her  younger  sister  with 
daggers  flashing  steely  from  under  her  eyelids.  But  as 
Vic  passed  behind  the  two  visitors,  she  caught  Claudia's 
expression    of  disgust,    and    most    rudely   put    out    her 

216 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

tongue,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Now  I  will  serve  you  back 
for  making  me  come  down  !  " 

Carus  caught  Vic's  gesture  in  a  mirror,  and  laughed 
aloud.      His  grandmother  gave  a  little  jump. 

"Why,  laddie,  don't  do  that — what  is  there  to  laugh 
at  ?  Some  byplay,  I  suppose.  It  is  very  rude  of  you  — 
and  remember,  I  am  not  nearly  so  blind  as  you  give  me 
credit  for.  Carus,  you  had  better  begin  to  make  sure 
of  your  dances  now  when  you  have  the  chance." 

So  stimulated,  Carus  could  not  do  less  than  ask  Ethel 
if  she  would  keep  the  first  round  dance  for  him.  But 
Ethel  answered  a  little  tartly  that  she  would  wait  till 
she  saw  the  card.  For  which  answer  the  Duchess 
applauded  her. 

"Make  them  fetch  and  carry,  my  dear,"  she  said, 
nodding  brusquely;  "they  are  happier  so,  and  don't 
get  tired  so  soon.  I  have  tried  both  ways.  Ah,  here 
she  comes.  You  have  been  good  to  her,  surely,"  she 
added,  turning  round  to  the  Torphichan  girls;  "you 
have  not  let  all  the  country  bloom  go  out  of  her  face." 

"  We  have  tried  to  make  our  dear  cousin  happy," 
cooed  Claudia.  Ethel,  being  a  little  more  straightfor- 
ward by  nature,  said  only,  "  She  has  plenty  of  exercise 
and  seems  to  keep  very  well  in  London." 

"  Come  and  give  me  a  kiss,  my  dear,"  said  the 
Duchess ;  "  why,  you  are  as  like  your  grandmother  as 
pea  is  like  pea;  but  why  this  black  dress,  are  you  in 
mourning  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Hester,  quietly. 

"  Mamma  says  black  lasts  longest,"  said  Vic,  frankly, 
"  and  at  least  those  little  ruffians,  Stanny,  Lot,  and 
Grubby,  won't  pull  it  to  pieces  quite  so  quickly." 

"You  teach  the  younger  children  then?"  asked  the 
Duchess,  with  a  warning  chill  in  her  voice. 

217 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

"Not  exactly,"  interposed  Ethel,  without  giving 
Hester  time  to  answer  ;  "  my  cousin  has  lessons  along 
with  the  younger  children." 

"Rats!"  declared  Vic,  smiling  broadly;  "she  sees 
that  they  do  theirs  —  that's  more  like  it !  " 

"  I  love  children ;  it  is  no  trouble  at  all,"  said  Hester, 
willing  to  throw  oil  on  the  waters ;  "  and  I  am  quite 
happy  and  deeply  grateful  for  all  my  opportunities  of 
study  !  " 

Carus  thought  of  the  last  study  he  had  seen  her 
engaged  in,  and  wondered  if  this  demure  slip  of  a  girl 
in  the  black  stuff  dress  could  indeed  be  the  swift-limbed 
Grace  of  the  ballroom  platform. 

"Some  of  your  studies  are  pleasanter  than  others, 
eh  ?  "  said  the  Duchess,  smiling  meaningly. 

At  which  Hester  could  only  blush  and  glance  appeal- 
ingly  at  her. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  should  rather  say  so,"  cried  Vic,  leaning 
on  the  elbow  of  a  chair  and  trying  vainly  to  dangle  her 
long  legs  ;  "  Mr.  Clarence  Shillinglaw  never  takes  his 
eyes  off  Hester  all  the  time  —  I  daresay  he  makes  love 
to  her  when  none  of  us  are  by  !  " 

"  Indeed  he  does  not !  He  never  speaks  to  me  except 
to  scold  me  !  "  said  poor  Hester,  her  face  crimsoning 
under  its  healthy  brown. 

But  Vic  laughed  scornfully,  and  Carus  began  to 
conceive  a  hatred  for  all  Scotch  tutors,  especially  those 
privileged  to  spend  hours  a  day  in  the  society  of  Hester 
Stirling. 

"  You  are  to  come  to  my  ball,"  said  her  Grace,  who 
still  held  Hester's  hand ;  "  no,  you  must  not  say  you 
have  nothing  to  wear " 

"  Your  Grace,  my  cousin  is  not  out  yet,"  began 
Ethel. 

2l8 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

"  Now,  my  dears,  don't  be  tiresome  !  "  interrupted 
the  imperious  dame ,  "  it  is  one  of  the  few  privileges  of 
a  Duchess  of  Niddisdale  that  she  does  as  she  likes  in 
these  little  matters.  And  if  Hester  does  not  promise  to 
come  —  why,  I  won't  give  the  ball  at  all,  that 's  all !  " 

At  this  the  girls'  faces  promptly  fell. 

"  Of  course,  what  Ethel  says  is  nonsense,"  cried  Vic. 
"  I  can  easily  fix  up  something  for  Hester.  She  and  I 
are  about  the  same  height,  but  she  will  need  to  take  in 
a  reef  or  two  at  the  waist.  I  am  built  like  a  pillar 
letter-box." 

"  You  are  a  good  girl,"  said  the  Duchess,  approv- 
ingly ;  "  you  must  come  and  see  me  some  day  —  indeed, 
you  are  all  to  come.  But  not  in  an  army  corps.  Come 
one  at  a  time,  and  then  I  shall  really  get  to  know  you  I  " 

She  patted  Hester's  cheek  as  she  rose. 

"  But  you,  first  of  all,"  she  said,  "  I  want  you  for 
your  grandmother's  sake  and  your  father's.  A  little 
rascal  he  vyas,  too.  It  was  the  year  my  own  little  boy 
died  that  he  was  born,  and  your  grandmother  often  let 
me  nurse  him.  Then  I  cried  my  eyes  out  going  home 
in  the  carriage  every  night.  But  I  always  went  back 
again  the  next  day  !  Good-bye,  my  dears.  Don't 
think  too  much  about  the  ball.  And  be  sure  you  get 
your  beauty  sleep.      Good-bye  !      Good-bye  !  " 

And  the  old  lady  went  out  leaning  upon  the  strong 
arm  of  Carus  Darroch. 

But  as  soon  as  she  was  fairly  gone  from  the  door  the 
tempest  broke. 

"  Minx  !  "  cried  Ethel,  advancing  as  if  to  inflict 
personal  chastisement  upon  Vic  ;  "  I  shall  tell  mamma 
—  you  have  disgraced  us.  And  as  for  that  charity-girl 
over  there,  I  will  not  live  another  day  in  the  same  house 

219 


VIC     GETS     EVEN 

with  her  !  And  so  I  shall  tell  my  father  as  soon  as  he 
comes  home !  " 

"  No  more  will  I,"  agreed  Claudia  as  bitterly ;  "  you 
are  in  league,  you  two.  With  that  little  cat's  blushing 
and  looking  down,  and  '  her  Grace's  god-daughter,'  if 
you  please  —  and  'every  one  to  be  very  kind'  to  her, 
as  if  she  was  a  queen  and  we  so  much  dirt  beneath  her 
feet." 

At  such  times  the  veneer  of  Empress  Gate  wore 
decidedly  thin,  and  the  aborginal   Torphichan  emerged. 

But  Vic  only  laughed  the  more. 

"  It  is  you  who  are  a  pair  of  jealous  old  cats,"  she 
cried,  defying  them;  "you  want  all  the  men  and  all  the 
attention,  and  you  think  the  way  to  get  both  is  to  sit 
and  prettify  yourselves  here,  like  tabbies  upon  cushions, 
with  ribbons  round  your  necks.  Why,  I  am  not  nearly 
so  good-looking  as  either  of  you,  but  I  could  give  you 
ten  yards'  start  in  the  hundred  and  beat  you  romping ! 
And  what  is  more,  so  could  Hester  —  that  is,  if  she  were 
only  decently  dressed  and  knew  how  to  make  use  of  her 
eyes  !  So  there  !  Um-m-m  !  That's  what  I  think  of 
you !     Cats  ! " 


L 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

A    FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

ETTER  from  her  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Niddis- 
dale  at  Scotstarvit  House,  S.  W.,  to  Lady 
Torphichan-Stirling,  of  i,  Empress  Gate,  W.: 


"  Dear  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling, —  It  was  such 
a  pleasure  to  me  to  see  the  dear  children  yesterday 
(^Georgina  Niddisdale^  ye  are  an  old  humbug!)^  especially 
to  see  them  all  possessing  so  much  of  your  own  charac- 
teristic Stirling  beauty  {Sarah  was  aye  for  a*  the  ivorld 
like  a  pin-cushion  out  for  a  walk  —  her  mother  was  a  beauty 
though  /).  When  can  your  husband  and  yourself  come 
to  lunch  ?  ^  You  must  dine  as  soon  as  my  son  Niddis- 
dale  returns  to  town.  And  the  dear  girls  must  look  in 
and  see  me  some  day  during  the  week  {Neale  can  always 
say  I  am  not  at  home^.  I  am  an  old  woman,  but  I  like 
to  be  surrounded  by  bright  young  people. 
"  Very  truly  yours, 

"  Georgina  Niddisdale." 

"  P.  S. — I  had  almost  forgotten.  I  must  carry  out  my 
promise  to  your  mother  and  be  a  real,  if  rather  belated, 
godmother  to  our  poor  little  Hester.  Will  you  let  her 
come  to  me  early  on  the  evening  of  the  ball  ?  It  is 
such  a  good  opportunity,  dear  Lady  Stirling,  to  impress 
the  young  heart  —  on  the  occasion  of  a  girl's  first 
entrance   into  the  world,   as   it   were." 

The  Duchess  sat  back  in  her  scat  with  a  smiling 
groan   as  she  wrote  the   last   words. 


A    FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

"  Js  it  were"  she  murmured,  pleased  with  herself. 

"  If  that  does  not  fetch  the  apothecary's  wife,  then 
I  don't  know  what  will.  It  is  so  exactly  her  dear 
husband's  style  !  *  Dear  Sylvanus  —  he  is  so  good,  so 
wise '  —  Ugh,  the  dreadful  woman  !  —  I  would  not  touch 
her  with  a  ten-foot  pole  —  except  for  Carus's  sake  I 
would  not  care " 

But  it  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  state  the  infinitesimal 
amount  of  strictly  non-legal  currency  the  vigorous  old 
lady  did  not  care  for  the  friendship  of  the  Torphichan- 
Stirlings. 

"  Now  for  my  little  Hester,"  she  said  ;  "  she  's  worth 
all  the  ruck  of  them.  It  is  a  blessed  thing,  though, 
that  Carus  is  in  love  already.  He  likes  pretty  blondes, 
at  any  rate.  Sometimes  I  think  —  no,  that 's  not  fair. 
Carus  is  no  milksop,  but  —  he  does  seem  to  have  some- 
thing of  my  poor  dear  Sophia  about  him.  Well,  well, 
he  won't  fall  in  love  with  Hester  —  and  if  he  does,  well, 
I  can  drive  him  on  the  curb.      Here  goes  !  " 

The  Duchess  dashed  ofF  another  note. 

"Sweet  little  Hester,  —  I've  asked  your  aunt  to 
let  you  come  to  me  on  Tuesday.  I  have  never  heard 
you  your  catechism,  so  see  you  come  prepared.  I  have 
promised,  also,  to  give  you  some  good  advice  and  per- 
haps something  a  trifle  nicer.  I  never  was  fond  of 
good  advice  all  my  life  —  not  even  of  administering  it. 
Come  early  —  by  seven  at  latest  —  I  want  you  to  help 
me  about  the  flowers  and  things.  Your  loving  (and 
repentant) 

"  Godmother." 


Hester  was  in  the  schoolroom  when  Vic  brought  her 
this  note. 


A    FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

*'  Oh,  I  say,  Hester,  you  owe  me  a  pair  of  gloves," 
cried  that  impetuous  young  lady,  "you  were  nearly  in 
a  proper  fix.  Mamma  came  as  near  as  a  toucher  to 
reading  your  letter,  and  Ethel  and  Clau  are  just  scratch- 
ing mad  because  the  Duchess  has  written  direct  to  you. 
So  before  they  could  make  up  their  minds  I  snatched  it 
and  came.  You  should  have  seen  their  faces.  And 
now  you  must  tell  me  what  she  says  !  " 

By  this  time  Hester  was  reading  the  widespaced 
sprawly  characters,  staggering  "  reel-rail "  over  the 
pages.  A  quick  fear  took  her  by  the  heart,  followed 
by  joy  as  fleet-winged.  She  could  not  go.  She  was 
going.  She  dare  not  face  everybody.  She  knew  she 
was  —  well,  if  not  exactly  ugly  —  at  least  plain-looking. 
What  would  Revvy  think  —  and  Megsy  ?  Oh,  and 
what  could  the  Duchess  want  —  to  scold  her  about  the 
dancing  lesson  ?  Her  aunt  would  never  let  her  go. 
And  oh,  how  ugly  the  evening  frock  was  her  aunt  had 
had  made  foe  her.     She  had  seen  Ethel's ! 

And  tears  came  into  the  dark  cool  eye-depths  and 
pearled  upon  the  long  lashes,  as  when  upon  the 
swallow's  wing  the  drops  glisten  after  he  has  dipped 
full-flight   in   the   mere. 

"  Hester,  Hester,  what  is  wrong  ?  Let  me  see. 
Does  she  say  you  are  not  to  come?  (Here  Vic 
snatched  the  letter  which  Hester  had  held  tremblingly.) 
U-m-m-um,  I  can't  read  it  —  'catechism/  'come 
early,'  'good  advice.'  That's  all  rats.  She  wants 
you  to  go  and  have  a  good  time  all  by  yourself,  you 
little  silly.  That  about  catechism  is  just  to  green  the 
mater^  don't  you  see  ?  Tom  and  I  often  get  round  her 
that  way.  It's  a  blessed  thing  Eth  didn't  get  hold  of 
this.  She  would  have  blown  the  gaff.  For  she  is  on 
to   the   game,   too,  starchy   as   she   looks.      But,    I    say, 

223 


A    FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

we  '11  read  this  to  ma  this  afternoon  when  Eth  and  Clau 
are  out  at  the  matinee  and  all  the  frowsy  tabbies  and 
things  are  swilling  away  at  their  cups  of  tea.  I  know 
the  mater  will  say  out  loud  —  'What,  another  letter 
from  the  dear  Duchess  ! '  " 

Vic  will  never  get  advancement  because  of  any 
literal  respect  for  the  first  commandment  with  promise. 

My  lady  had  indeed  been  living  in  a  kind  of  devout 
reverie  upon  the  Duchess's  letter  all  day.  Happily  for 
her  peace  of  mind,  she  did  not  hear  the  significant 
comments  with  which  its  composition  was  interlarded. 

It  chanced  that  the  "  tabbies  "  were  in  great  force 
that  day,  and  Sir  Sylvanus,  that  eminent  scientist  and 
politician,  moved  about  among  his  guests  with  smiling 
deference,  thinking  what  a  diplomat  was  wasted  in 
himself,  and  buckling  and  unbuckling  his  large  pasty- 
white  hands,  "  like  half-readied  soda  scones,"  the 
country-bred  Hester  thought.  Nobody  took  any  notice 
of  the  demure  little  figure  in  the  worn  brown  dress  that 
followed  so  quietly  in  the  turbulent  wake  of  Vic's 
passage,  as  she  scattered  Timson  and  a  stray  guest 
or  two  out  of  her  path  toward  her  mother,  who,  in 
the  farthest  corner,  sat  simpering  and  bowing  as  if 
specially  fitted  inside  with  clockwork  for  that  very 
purpose. 

My  lady  toed  the  line  of  her  daughter's  expectation 
to  a  hair's-breadth. 

"  What,"  she  cried  aloud,  "  not  another  letter  from 
that  dear,  dear  Duchess  ?  How  pressing  she  is.  I 
have  already  written  to  say  that  she  may  expect  to  see 
you  all  to-morrow  afternoon.  This  is  no  doubt  for  the 
purpose  of  appointing  an  hour.  About  Hester  Stirling, 
did  you  say  ?  Surely  not !  What  can  she  want  with 
Hester  ?  *' 

224 


A    FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

"  Shall  I  read  it  aloud,  mamma  ?  "  came  the  clear 
voice  of  Vic. 

"  No,  no,  dear,"  said  her  mother,  in  a  low  tone,  drop- 
ping her  exclamatory  method,  "  it  is  not  necessary. 
But  what  can  her  Grace  want  with  her  ?  There  must 
be  some  mistake.  I  will  write  and  say  that  I  shall  send 
Ethel  instead.  She  has  so  much  taste  in  flowers  —  and, 
besides,  it  is  more  suitable  altogether '' 

She  was  goino;  to  say,  "  because  of  Carus  Darroch," 
but  she  caught  herself  up.  She  could  not  quite  an- 
nounce that  yet,  except  by  hints  and  becks  and  meaning 
smiles.  "  Well,  dear,  of  course  you  know  there  is 
absolutely  nothing  in  it  —  at  least,  as  yet.  Nothing 
settled,  that  is.  But,  of  course,  young  people,  you 
know  !      And    it    is   obyious    to    eyery    one   how   much 

he But  Ethel  is  a  dear  girl,  and  would  ornament 

any  sphere,  however  exalted.      Of  course  you  must  not 
mention " 

Vic  broke,  in  remorselessly  on  the  pleasing  meditation. 

"  Is  Hester  to  go  or  not,  mamma  ?  She  has  to  write 
and  say  so." 

"  Well,  dear,  as  I  was  saying,  I  think  she  had  better 
stay  at  home.  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  well  spare  her. 
But  I  shall  write  to  the  Duchess  myself." 

"Then  Hester  is  to  write  to  Lady  Niddisdale  and  say 
that  she  can't  be  spared  out  of  the  nursery  till  Lottie  and 
Grubby  are  bathed  and  combed  and  put  to  bed  ;  is  that  it, 
mamma?    She'll  think  we  can't  afford  to  keep  a  nurse." 

"  Hush,  child,"  said  her  mother,  looking  hastily 
around  •,  "  no,  of  course,  if  the  Duchess  makes  a  point 
of  it,  as  she  seems  to  do,  Hester  must  go." 

"  That 's  all  right,  mamma  !      That 's  what  wc  wanted 
to    know.      Come    on,    Hester,    and    get    the    letter   off 
before  the  '  cats  '  come  home  !  " 
15  225 


A   FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  sighed  as  Vic  disappeared 
through  the  doorway,  elbowing  Timson,  a  tray-laden 
image  of  astonishment,  against  the  lintel  as  she  did  so, 
with  a  resounding  bang. 

"  Dear  Victoria  is  always  so  impetuous,"  she  sighed 
in  a  delicately  fatigued  manner  to  her  nearest  neighbour, 
a  stout  and  positive  old  lady  interested  in  the  Ten  Lost 
Tribes  and  the  Literal  Interpretation  of  Prophecy  ;  "  so 
rough,  you  know,  and  takes  such  strange  fancies  !  Sir 
Sylvanus  and  I  would  be  quite  anxious  about  her  future 
did  we  not  know  that  the  children  of  the  elect  are 
specially  cared  for  !  " 

"  Ah,  dear  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling,"  cooed  the 
other,  "  do  not  forget  that  all  things  are  ordained,  the 
woes,  the  wrath,  the  judgments,  and  that,  long  before 
the  dear  girl  can  be  any  cause  of  anxiety  to  you,  the 
Sixth  Vial  will  have  sounded,  and  we  shall  all  have  gone, 
as  the  Scriptures  say,  to  our  own  place  —  I  mean  into 
Abraham's  bosom  !      It  is  such  a  comfort !  " 

The  old  lady  sometimes  got  pardonably  mixed  among 
the  horns  and  vials  and  trumpets,  in  the  absence  of  her 
favourite  prophetical  expositor  with  his  gaily-coloured 
charts  and  little  historical  handbook.  But  this  was  not 
in  the  line  of  Lady  Stirling's  thought. 

''Yes  —  yes,"  she  said  hastily,  in  the  tone  of  general 
religious  agreement  common  to  the  serious  tea-table 
enthusiast,  "  but  dear  Vic  already  gives  us  great  anxiety. 
She  takes  strong  likings  and  disliklngs.  For  instance, 
we  have  a  Scotch  cousin  in  the  house,  a  kind  of  poor 
relation  whom  the  Duchess  has  taken  an  interest  in  for 
the  family's  sake  —  so  condescending  of  her  Grace. 
And  this  girl  —  yes,  that  was  she  in  brown,  who  came  in 
with  Victoria  just  now  —  she  is  in  danger  of  having  her 
head  turned  —  so  bad  for  one  in  her  position,  don't  you 

226 


A    FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

agree  with  me  ?  Well,  Victoria  absolutely  rejoices  in 
crossing  me,  in  exalting  this  girl  whom  wc  took  out  of 
pure  charity  into  the  house,  and  especially  in  annoying 
and  vexing  her  sisters.  But  I  am  powerless,  vou  see, 
dear;  I  dare  not  tell  Sylvanus,  or  he  would  turn  the 
ungrateful  minx  instantly  out  of  the  house.  And  I 
should  not  like  that,  vou  know.  I  should  feel  it  on  my 
conscience  if  anytl?ing  happened  afterwards  to  the  girl." 

The  prophetic  old  lady  raised  her  eyebrows  at  the 
emphasis.  She  thought  she  was  on  the  edge  of  a 
scandal,  and  (next  to  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  and 
pending  the  destruction  of  all  things)  nothing  delights 
the  waiting  faithful  so  much  as  a  little  spicy  mundane 
gossip.  Let  but  a  dozen  seasoned  veterans  get  together, 
and  even  the  Ten  Lost  Tribes  are  not  nearly  so  much 
lost  as  the  characters  of  all  their  (absent)  friends,  when 
the  time  comes  to  close  the  sederunt  with  a  few  words 
of  prayer. 

"  Oh,  no5"  said  her  hostess,  hastily,  a  little  heart- 
stricken,  as  she  noticed  the  eager  expression  on  her 
friend's    face,   "  Hester    is   quite   a   good   girl.      But    her 

father "      Here   she   lowered    her  voice  and    for  a 

happy  five  minutes  the  apocalyptic  old  lady  had  her  fill 
of  scandal.  "  Yes,  indeed,  dear  Mrs.  Gunther-Lestock, 
dreadful,  was  n't  it,  for  his  family?  It  nearly  killed  me. 
Of  course  he  went  abroad  immediately  afterwards  and 
his  child " 

Another  pause  —  many  fluttcrings  of  uplifted  hands, 
a  continuous  purr  of  virtuous  tongue-clicking,  the  clash- 
ing of  black  head-bugles.  "  Dear,  dear,  who  would 
have  believed  it  possible  !  But  you  know  such  things 
occur  in  all  good  families.  Why,  there  was  my  poor 
sister's  husband's  brother  who " 

The  subject  of  the  sister's  husband's  brother  proved 
227 


A   FAIRY    GODMOTHER'S    CATECHISM 

so  interesting  (from  a  prophetic  and  philanthropic  point 
of  view)  that  the  other  tabbies  had  begun  the  premoni- 
tory rustle  of  departure  before  it  was  finished.  The 
beaded  nodding  heads  came  closer  as  if  they  had  been 
two  of  the  ten  horns  about  to  engage  in  a  personal 
conflict. 

"  Good-bye,  dear  Mrs.  Gunther-Lestock,"  said  the 
hostess  of  Empress  Gate  ;  "  so,  now  you  do  not  wonder 
that  I  consider  it  my  duty  to  protect  the  daughter  of 
such  a  father  and  such  a  mother  from  herself.  And 
such  a  pity  that  the  Duchess !  " 

(Closed  with  prayer.) 


228 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

MEANWHILE  in  the  room  above  (very  high 
above),  which  was  Tom's  sanctum,  among  a 
"clutter"  of  tobacco  jars,  Oxford  framed 
photographs  of  ladies  of  robust  charms,  coloured  hunting 
scraps  pinned  askew  to  the  wall,  broken  tops  of  fishing- 
rods  waiting  (and  waiting  in  vain)  to  be  spliced,  and  in  the 
heart  of  a  prevailing  blue  haze,  Vic  was  assisting  Hester 
to  pen  her  letter.  She  was  balancing  herself  precariously 
on  the  back  of  a  chair,  and  looking  over  Hester's 
shoulder.  Tom,  Carus  Darroch,  and  young  Kipford 
(who  had  been  Carus's  fag  and  answered  indifferently 
to  the  name^  of  "  Waffles"  and  "  Dukey  ")  were  seated 
about  a  small  fire  of  wood —  for,  by  one  of  the  extra- 
ordinary changes  incident  to  the  climate  of  London,  it 
had  grown  suddenly  chilly  as  October. 

It  was  a  dead  secret  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  house 
that  Kipford  ever  came  to  Empress  Gate.  He  had  run 
down  from  Oxford  to  see  Carus,  and  he  was  particu- 
larly anxious  that  his  father  should  not  know  of  his 
escapade.  Consequently  he  was  Mr.  "  Waffles,"  a 
friend  of  Tom's.  Only  Vic,  who  of  course  was  a 
"fellow,"  and  did  not  count,  was  "in  the  know." 
Even  Hester  was  entirely  innocent,  and,  indeed,  had 
hardly  so  much  as  looked  at  the  closely-cropped  young 
man  who  stroked  his  delicate  and  indeed  invisible  fair 
moustache  so  often,  and  said  "  H-m-mm  "  before  every 
sentence. 

229 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

"  — '■ —  Thank    you     very    much shall    be    sure 


to  be  with  you  early hope  you  will  not  be  disap- 
pointed in  me.  Oh,  you  needn't  have  put  that  —  but  I 
suppose  as  you  are  a  '  bud  '  it 's  all  right.  No,  don't 
call  her  'your  Grace,'  she  won't  mind.      She  gets  plenty 

of  that   sort  of  thing  downstairs I   wish  you  boys 

would  make  less  noise.  Tom,  for  goodness  sake  don't 
laugh  like  a  hyena.  Carus,  make  him  behave  !  There's 
a  cricket  stump  in  the  corner.  Such  ongoings  are  not 
good  for  little  boys  like  Waffles !  " 

"  H-m-mm  —  oh,  I  say.  Miss  Vic  —  toria  !  "  said  the 
"  boy,"  caressing  his  moustache. 

"Oh,  call  her  'Vic'  like  the  rest  of  us  and  be  done 
with  it.  She  is  neither  a  Camel  nor  a  Hun,"  said  Tom, 
lolling  upon  his  shoulder-blades  and  blowing  rings 
towards  the  ceiling.  "  Ha,  hit  him  in  the  bull's-eye 
that  time  !  " 

Vic  spun  round  on  the  chair-back,  miraculously  pre- 
serving herself  from  falling,  and  shook  a  very  fairly 
solid  fist  under  the  young  man's  nose  nearest  to  her. 
He  put  up  an   eye-glass  and  regarded  it  stolidly. 

"  Why,  what  would  you  do  if  he  did  call  you  '  Vic  '  ?  " 
cried  Tom. 

"Do!"  said  Vic,  sharply,  "why,  tell  his  father  on 
him  of  course  —  have  him  spanked  and  sent  back  to 
school !  " 

Mr.  "  Waffles  "  was  immensely  delighted. 

"  No,  you  would  n't  really  —  not  really,  you  know," 
he  said.  "I'm  going  back  on  Wednesday,  you  know. 
But  I  had  to  have  some  clothes,  and  I  really  can't  miss 
the  ball.  Besides,  it 's  '  Long  '  anyway,  and  I  'm  just  up 
swotting  for  a  beastly  exam.  My  father  says  I  must  do 
decently  in  the  schools  so  as  not  to  disgrace  him.  It 's 
all  your  fault,  Carus,  and   precious  hard   it  is  to  come 

230 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

immediately  after  a  clever  beast  like  you.  Still,  there  's 
always  the  river,  and  generally  enough  fellows  about  to 
make  up  a  scratch  crew  !  " 

Tom  patted  Kipford  on  the  back. 

"  Bravo  !  Dukey  ;  you  '11  come  out  a  double  first,  I  bet 
my  boots,  and  then  the  Master's  eye  will  be  out.  Never 
mind  what  she  says.  Call  her  ^  Vic'  It  sounds  too 
much  like  '  sixty  years  of  glorious  reign '  when  you 
call  her  '  Victoria.'  " 

"There  now,  Hester,  all  done!  Let  me  lick  the 
envelope  for  luck.  Got  a  stamp,  Carus  ?  Tom,  I 
know,  never  has  —  raids  mine  when  my  door  isn't 
locked  !  " 

"Well,  I  like  that "  began  Tom. 

"  Thank  vou,  dear  boy  —  shut  up,  Tom,  you  know 
it 's  true.  Will  you  post  that,  Carus  ?  It  is  to  the 
Duchess  about  the  ball,  and  very  important.  So  don't 
forget,  as  Tom  always  does.  That 's  the  reason  you 
never  got  n>y  apology  for  calling  you  '  Waffles.'  It  is, 
indeed.  Tom  posted  it  in  his  second-best  overcoat 
pocket,  left-hand  side.      It 's  there  now  !  " 

"  Waffles  will  take  the  letter  direct,  and  then  I  can't 
forget  it,"  said  Carus,  smiling ;  "  he  is  stopping  at 
Scotstarvit  House." 

"With  a  rope  ladder  out  at  the  bedroom  window  in 
case  his  father  should  arrive  in  the  night !  "  put  in 
Victoria,  looking  down  at  the  young  man.  "Will  you 
be  responsible  for  it  ?  Swear  to  deliver  it  !  On  your 
knees.  Waffles  !  " 

"  'Pon  my  honour,  I  will  think  of  nothing  else  till  it 
is  in  the  hands  ot " 

"Rats!"  cried  Vic,  "I  know  something  better  and 
safer  than  a  cartload  of  you  fellows'  promises.  Stand 
up  !  " 

231 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

"  /  never  forgot  a  letter  you  gave  me  to  post,"  said 
Carus,  demurely. 

" '  Liar  and  Slave, '  "  quoted  Vic,  melodramatically, 
"  last  Monday  at  dusk  as  ever  was  —  but  no  matter  ! 
Stand  up,  Waffles.      Did  you  hear  me  speak  ?  " 

The  young  man  stood  up,  smoothing  his  invisible 
moustache.  Vic  spoke  the  last  w^ords  a  trifle  indis- 
tinctly. She  had  a  large  safety-pin  in  her  mouth.  She 
caught  hold  of  the  lapels  of  his  coat. 

"  Now,  put  that  envelope  in  your  breast  pocket,"  she 
commanded,  sternly.  And  when  the  young  man  had 
obeyed  with  a  kind  of  a  pleased  and  yet  shamefaced 
sheepishness,  she  deftly  caught  his  coat  and  pinned  the 
safety-pin  through  cloth  and  letter. 

"  Ouch  !  "  said  the  youth,  involuntarily,  when  the  pin 
was  about  half  through. 

"  Was  that  your  waistcoat  ?  "  inquired  the  operator, 
with  much  philosophy. 

"  Yes,  my  under-waistcoat !  "  said  "  Waffles,"  who 
had  not  been  Carus  Darroch's  fag  in  vain. 

"  Ah,  then,"  retorted  Vic  calmly,  "  that  will  ensure 
that  you  do  not  forget.  Nothing  like  jogging  a  young 
man's  memory  nowadays  !  " 

"  With  a  brass  pin  !  "  murmured  Waffles,  sitting  down 
on  his  chair  with  a  certain  careful  solicitude. 

"  Now,  mind,  you  know  nothing  about  any  letter,  you 
fellows,  if  the  girls  come  up.  Hester,  let 's  vanish. 
They  '11  be  here  in  a  jifFy  !  " 

Hester  had  not  said  a  word,  feeling  herself  very  young 
and  simple.  She  could  not  stand  up  to  Vic's  slangy 
banter.  She  had  another  style,  however,  learned  from 
Revvy  and  her  own  swift-flowing  fancies.  But  just  now 
the  life  in  her  was  all  beaten  back  by  the  dulness  of  her 
surroundings,  and  she  felt  awkward  and  tongue-tied. 

232 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

"  What  a  stupid  he  will  think  me,"  she  said  to  her- 
self as  she  went  out ;  "  I  could  not  say  '  Bo  '  to  a  —  not 
that  it  matters,  of  course " 

But  all  the  same  she  heaved  a  sigh  as  she  left  Vic  at 
the  door  of  her  own  room  and  ran  upstairs  to  "tidy" 
before  the  hour  of  afternoon  schoolroom  tea,  at  which 
she  presided  with  Miss  Martin  between  her  and  the 
sofa,  in  order  to  protect  that  unfortunate  lady  from  the 
attacks  of  Stanhope  and  the  sticky  fingers  of  Grubby. 

Arrived  in  her  garret  (her  aunt  had  taken  her  maid 
down  to  sleep  in  her  dressing-room,  and  as  a  favour 
given  Hester  her  room)  she  drew  out  the  Duchess's 
letter,  and  first  laughed  a  little,  then  cried  a  little 
over   it. 

"  Oh,  it  will  be  dreadful,  I  know,"  she  said  to  herself; 
"  I  shall  be  afraid  of  my  own  shadow,  and  I  shan't  be 
able  to  say  a  word  to  anybody.  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  never 
promised.  I  wonder  if  I  could  get  the  letter  back  ?  " 
She  started -to  her  feet.  But  when  she  thought  of  Tom's 
room,  and  of  trying  to  explain  under  the  quietly  obser- 
vant eves  of  the  men,  she  sat  down  again.  That  was 
not  to  be  thought  of.  She  pictured  herself  standing  on 
the  floor  before  the  three  of  them,  unable  to  utter  a 
single  word. 

"  I  wonder  why  I  am  such  a  fool  ?  "  said  little  Hester. 
"  I  did  n't  use  to  be  like  this  !  " 

But  Hester  was  not  destined  to  be  left  long  alone, 
which  in  her  present  mood  v/as  perhaps  as  well.  She 
was  inclined  to  be  afraid  of  the  Duchess  and  the  ball, 
but  with  her  next  visitors  she  forgot  all  about  that. 

"Open  the  door  —  we  want  to  come  in!"  It  was 
Ethel's   voice  outside. 

"  Yes,  at  once  !  Do  you  hear.''  "  Claudia  called  out, 
still    more   cmphaticallv.      Hester    cast    a    hasty   glance 

233 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

about  the  room  to  see  that  she  had  left  nothing  on  the 
table  that  she  cared  about  and  opened  the  door. 

Ethel  and  her  younger  sister  entered  and  con- 
fronted  her. 

"  Now  let  us  see  that  letter,"  said  Ethel,  her  eyes 
flashing  fire  and  her  small  hands  clenched  at  her  sides. 
They  had  come  straight  up  to  Hester's  room  without 
waiting  to  take  off  their  things. 

"  Yes,  and  we  mean  to  have  it,  too !  "  said  Claudia, 
marching  over  to  Hester  as  if  to  overawe  the  girl  with 
her  superior  stature. 

"  What  letter  ?  "  said  Hester,  faintly. 

"Oh,  you  know  very  well,"  cried  Ethel;  "you  can't 
play  pretty  little  Miss  Innocence  with  us.  The  letter 
you  had  from  the  Duchess,  that  Vic  bullied  mamma 
into  letting  you  answer  for  yourself." 

"Yes,"  said  Claudia,  sniffing,  "and  you've  been  into 
Tom's  room,  too — I  smell  the  smoke.  What  business 
had  you  there  ?      I  shall  speak  to  papa  !  " 

"  I  shall  not  give  you  the  Duchess's  letter,  and  if  I 
went  with  Victoria  into  Tom's  room  to  answer  it,  what 
business  is  that  of  yours  ?  "  said  Hester,  with  spirit. 

^'  Went  into  Master  Tom's  room  with  Miss  Victoria, 
please,  ma'am  !  "  mimicked  Claudia,  ducking  a  curtsey  ; 
"  that 's  the  way  you  ought  to  speak,  charity-girl  !  " 

Claudia's  warlike  methods  were  at  once  simpler  and 
cruder  than   Ethel's. 

"  Give  me  the  letter  !  "  said  Ethel  again,  more  fiercely 
than  before. 

"  I  will  not !  "  said  Hester,  firmly.  "  It  has  nothing 
to  do  with  you  !  " 

"Then  I'll  get  it  for  myself — here  it  is!"  cried 
Claudia,  making  a  dart  at  one  or  two  papers  lying 
underneath   the   little   rickety   circular   table  which   had 

234 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

been  given  to  Hester  because  nobody  else  could  be 
induced  to  give  it  house-room. 

Before  Hester  could  prevent  it  her  cousins  were 
reading  each  a  letter  —  Ethel  had  that  of  the  Duchess, 
and  was  holding  it  scornfully.     "'Sweet  little  Hester!' 

—  she  looks  it,  does  n't  she  ?  She  looks  what  she  is, 
a  nasty,  spiteful  little  toad  !  A  charity-girl  !  "  (Her 
amiable  cousin  conjectured  rightly  that  that  word 
would  hurt  worse  than  anything  else.)  " '  Come 
early,  not  later  than  seven  —  to  help  with  the 
flowers '  —  I  should  like  to  see  you  dare,  and  us 
not  invited  !      *  Your  loving  and  repentant   Godmother' 

—  silly  old  woman  ;  she  must  be  in  her  dotage.  We  '11 
teach  her !  " 

"  Now  sit  down  and  answer  it  as  we  tell  you."  Ethel, 
as  usual,  had  taken  command  of  the  situation. 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Hester,  in- 
dignantlv.  "  1  was  instructed  by  my  aunt  how  to 
answer  it,  ajid  the   letter  has  already  gone  !  " 

*' That  is  a  lie,"  said  Ethel;  "we  know  from  Timson 
that  no  letter  has  been  posted  from  the  box  in  the  hall, 
and  it  is  n't  there  now  —  I  looked  !  " 

"What's  more,"  cried  Claudia,  looking  up  from  the 
paper,  "neither  you  nor  Vic  have  been  out.  So  sit 
down   and   write  as  we  tell  you  !  " 

Hester  again  refused,  repeating  her  statement  that 
the   rcpiv   had   already   been  despatched. 

"  Well,  who  has  taken  it  ?  —  tell  us  that." 

Meantime  Claudia  had  gone  over  to  the  little  roof 
window  and  was  reading  another  letter  which  she  had 
been  holding  behind  her  back.  With  one  glance  Hester 
saw  that  it  was  from  Mcgsy,  and  she  tried  to  snatch  it 
away. 

"  Give  it  me,"  she  cried,  almost  in  tears  ;  "  that  is 
235 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

a  private  letter  with  which  you  have  nothing  to  do.   Oh, 
how  mean  of  you  !  " 

"'Sweet  little  Hesters  '  should  have  no  private  letters  in 
other  people's  houses,  which  the  people  whose  bread  they 
eat  must  not  see  !  "  mocked  Claudia,  holding  the  letter 
at  arm's-length,  while  Ethel  interposed  between  them. 

"  Oho  !  just  listen  to  this,"  she  cried,  from  behind 
Ethel's  back  :  "  '  Revvie  thanks  you  for  the  stockings 
and  the  snufF.  He  beggs  '  (she  spells  it  with  two  gs) 
*you  not  to  send  him  any  more,  as  he  has  plenty  and  it 
is  not  good  for  him.'  (Who  is  the  dirty  old  man  ?) 
'  We  are  both  weel,  but  oh,  lassie,  when  will  you  come 
hame  ?  The  hoose  is  lonesome  withoot  ye  !  '  Why 
don't  you  go,  ours  would  not  be  lonesome  without  you, 
I  can  tell  you  that.  Miss  Charity  !  " 

"  I  daresay  she  was  kitchenmaid  and  scrubbed  the 
floors  in  her  last  place,"  said  Claudia,  reading  on. 
"  Hear  what  the  woman  says  next :  '  I  am  gled  that 
the  Duchiss  has  been  kind  to  you.  She  was  fell  fond 
o'  your  grandmither,  the  bonny  lamb  !  And  I  doubt 
not  that  she  sees  through  thae  Torpheechans,  the  cruel 
wulfs  that  hae  robbit  my  dentie  o'  her  inheritance  !  " 

"  Ethel,  do  you  hear  that  ?  "  cried  Claudia,  whirling 
round  the  room  triumphantly.  "  She  shall  pack  now  — 
for  a  certainty.  We  will  show  this  to  papa,  and  I  know 
he  will  never  have  the  insolent  creature  in  his  house 
after  this.  Then  we  will  see  whether  she  will  go  to 
dine  at  Scotstarvit  House  or  not !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  you  won't,"  cried  Vic,  suddenly  appearing 
from  behind,  at  that  moment,  snatching  the  letter  out 
of  Claudia's  hand  and  standing  on  the  defensive;  "you 
pair  of  sneaks  and  thieves.  If  you  tell  father  a  word, 
I  '11  swear  till  all 's  blue  that  you  made  it  up  —  and  so 
will  Tom,  if  I  ask  him." 

236 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

Ethel  and  Claudia  rushed  at  their  sister  to  force  her 
to  give  them  back  the  incriminating  document,  but  Vic 
thrust  it  deep  into  her  pocket,  and,  lifting  a  hatpin 
off  the  table,  stood  at  bay  with  it  in  her  hand.  Claudia 
made  a  dash  forward,  but  was  received  with  the  point 
of  the  bayonet  and  promptly  reduced  to  tears. 

"  You  are  an  unnatural  sister,"  cried  Ethel,  "  and 
both  father  and  mother  shall  know  of  it  —  how  you  take 
sides  against  your  own  flesh  and  blood." 

"  Ugh,  I  don't  believe  you  are  flesh  and  blood  !  It 's 
vinegar  and  sawdust  you  are  made  of,  you  horrid  cats  !  " 
cried  free-spoken  Vic,  "  and  if  you  dare  tell  my  father 
one  word  I  will  spoil  your  precious  Blue  Drawing-room 
games  for  you.  I  '11  never  go  out  when  you  want  me 
to,  and  I  '11  tell  every  single  man  that  comes  to  the  house 
about  your  spitefulness  and  the  bad  tempers  you  have. 
The  letter  is  answered  and  the  Duchess  has  it  by  now. 
Hester  is  going  where  you  were  not  invited,  and  you 
would  give  your  eyes  to  be  in  her  shoes  —  you  know  you 
would  !  " 

"Her  shoes!  "  said  Claudia,  recovering  a  little;  "she 
hasn't  got  any,  except  her  street  dumpers  —  she  will 
look  pretty  at  a  ball  in  those  ! 

"  I  shall  lend  her  a  pair  of  mine,"  said  Vic,  a  little 
doubtfully. 

Ethel  laughed  scornfully. 

"Yours!  —  why,  you  know  very  well  you  never  can 
keep  a  pair  decent  for  more  than  a  night,  and  your  last 
ones  did  you  all  last  winter  !  " 

"  And  even  if  she  did  go,"  said  Ethel,  "  nobody  will 
ever  ask  her  to  dance " 

"No,  indeed,  not  in  the  frock  Read  is  making  for 
her.      Mother  bought  the   material   cheap   at  a   removal 

sale,  and  it  has  been  lying  by " 

237 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

Claudia  put  in  her  contribution. 

"  Of  course  not,"  coincided  Ethel ;  "  she  will  be  like 
Mabel  Lyons  at  the  Bachelors'  Ball  —  do  you  remember, 
Clau  ?  " 

"Rather!"  answered  Claudia;  "she  was  in  a  great 
state  about  going  and  got  mother  to  chaperon  her  — 
like  her  impudence !  And,  of  course,  mamma  had 
something  else  to  do  than  look  after  her.  And  so  she 
sat  and  sat,  and  watched  dance  after  dance.  And  not 
a  soul  spoke  to  her.  And  nobody  even  took  her  down 
to  supper."  (Claudia  stopped  to  laugh  here  —  it  was 
her  idea  of  humour.)  "  And  like  that  woman  in  Tenny- 
son or  somebody,  '  She  was  aweary,  aweary,  and  wished 
that  she  were  dead.'  And  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  somebody  did  finally  take  pity  on  her  and  ask 
her  to  dance,  she  burst  into  tears  before  everybody, 
and  cried  like  a  great  baby,  till  mother  had  to  get  her 
away  somehow.  And  oh,  it  was  so  funny  !  That 's  just 
how  it  will  be  with  the  charity-miss  !  " 

"  Never  mind  them,  dear  old  girl,"  said  Vic,  standing 
on  guard  over  Hester,  whose  face  had  grown  tearful  too, 
for  she  fully  expected  Mabel  Lyons's  fate  to  be  hers  ; 
*'  you  '11  be  all  right  at  the  ball.  Cats  can't  help  scratch- 
ing —  if  only  to  keep  their  claws  sharp.  And  if  you 
don't  get  many  dances,  Tom  will  take  you  down  to 
supper  and  talk  to  you.  I  '11  make  him  promise.  He 
does  n't  dance,  you  know.  He  only  hitches  round  like 
a  poodle  on  its  hind  legs,  and  looks  just  as  happy  when 
he  does  it,  too  !  " 

After  her  cousins  had  gone,  Hester  threw  herself  on 
the  little  bed  and  gave  way  to  a  good  cry.  She  did  not 
often  indulge  the  weakness,  but  this  had  tried  her  just 
a  peg  too  high.  Besides,  though  she  had  kept  a  brave 
face  before  them,  she   felt   the   sting   of  each  taunt,  of 

238 


THE    SCRATCHING    OF    THE    CATS 

ever)'  carefully  calculated  uukindness,  and  it  was  not  to 
be  denied  that  Ethel  and  Claudia  had  on  this  occasion 
surpassed  themselves. 

Still  there  was  not  much  time  for  sorrow.  It  was 
not  long  before  Read,  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling's  maid, 
rapped  at  the  door  with  a  message  that  her  ladyship 
wished  Miss  Stirling  to  come  down  and  help  Miss 
IVIartin  with  the  children's  evening  lessons.  She  had 
no  more  time  to  think  over  her  griefs  that  night,  which 
perhaps  was  as  well.  Vic  looked  in  for  a  moment  on 
her  way  up  to  the  drawing-room  after  dinner. 

"  Here  's  your  letter,"  she  said ;  "  they  have  not  told. 
I  bluffed  them  about  their  Blue  Drawing-room  games. 
They  are  no  end  frightened  that  I  will  go  and  stop 
there  with  them  all  the  afternoon.  But  if  I  were  you 
I  would  always  burn  your  home  letters  when  you 
answer  them.  The  cats  would  think  nothing  of  over- 
hauling the  whole  place  when  you  go  out !  " 

And  when  at  last,  very  tired  and  heartsore,  Hester 
laid  her  head  on  her  pillow,  the  consciousness  returned 
to  her  of  how  steadily  Carus  Darroch's  eyes  had  gazed 
at  her  as  she  sat  writing  with  Vic  looking  over  her 
shoulder.  Of  course,  he  must  have  been  looking  at 
Vic.  Perhaps  it  was  Vic  after  all,  and  not  Ethel, 
whom  he  admired.  What  if  he  should  marry  Vic  ? 
The  thought  ought  to  have  given  her  pleasure,  but, 
<jii  the  contrary,  Hester  was  conscious  that  it  sent  a 
little  stab  of  deeper  pain  through  her  breast.  She  could 
not  sleep  for  three  hours  for  thinking  of  it. 


239 


CHAPTER   XXX 

THE    MAGIC    WAND 

THE  great  day  came  at  last.  Hester  woke  in  the 
morning  to  a  sense  of  something  pleasant  some- 
where. At  first  she  thought  it  was  the  Darroch 
water  singing  down  in  the  linn.  She  was  paddling  her 
feet  in  it  and  listening  to  the  grateful  hush  of  sound. 
But  instead  the  sun  was  streaming  in  between  the  blind 
and  the  little  red  curtain  which  Hester  had  put  up  to 
give  a  homelike  flavour  to  her  dingy  little  garret  chamber. 
The  London  sparrows  were  busy  outside,  elbowing  and 
quarrelling  with  each  other  incessantly  as  they  transacted 
their  affairs  domestic. 

Hester  lay  listening.  She  tried  to  imagine  herself 
back  by  the  Darroch.  Across  the  deep  brown  pool 
beneath  the  kirk-yard  the  Waterside  kine  were  drowsing 
or  standing  kneedeep  in  the  shallows.  Was  that  Revvie 
up  there,  walking  with  his  Greek  Testament  in  his 
hand,  to  and  fro  along  the  minister's  walk  ? 

But  no,  it  would  not  do.  The  real,  which  was  so 
unreal,  the  New  World,  which  was  as  old  as  Eve's 
Tree  of  Knowledge,  soon  ousted  even  the  sweetest  of 
day-dreams. 

The  morning  of  the  ball !  Hester  had  a  vision  of 
bright  lights,  of  gay  uniforms,  of  beautiful  costumes, 
of  linked  arms  and  mazy  dances.  She  had  seen  from 
the  entrance  door  of  the  ballroom  many  such  in  the 
house  at   Empress  Gate,  but  she  herself  had  never  been 

24.0 


THE     iM  A  G  I  C     WAND 

bidden  enter  into  fain'land.  The  children's  nursery 
was  her   portion. 

But  to-night  the  New  World  was  to  be  her  own. 
Yet  there  on  the  old  chintz  of  the  wheezy  armchair 
lay  the  frock  of  cheap  material  which  Read  had  finished 
for  her  the  night  before,  so  that  she  might  be  able  to 
e;ive  all  her  attention  to  making  any  changes  in  the 
"young  ladies'"  dresses  when  they  came  home  from 
the  Court  dressmaker. 

"  Us;h,  you  are  tight  just  where  you  ought  to  be 
loose,  and  loose  just  where  you  ought  to  be  tight.  I 
can't  get  you  right  !  "  said  Hester,  looking  at  the  cheap 
remnanted  job-lot  silk  of  the  skirt.  "  But,  after  all,  I 
ought  not  to  say  that,  for  poor  Read  certainly  did  her 
best.  And  Vic's  slippers — she  nearly  cried  that  they 
were   not  better." 

And  with  that  Hester  got  up  and  began  to  wonder  if 
there  would  be  a  letter  from  Revvie  that  morning,  and 
of  all  she  would  have  to  tell  him  when  she  came  back  out 
of  the  wonder-world  into  which  she  was  adventuring. 

The  day  passed  slowly  —  indeed,  as  it  seemed,  inter- 
minably. It  was  half-past  six  before  she  could  leave 
the  day-nursery,  where  she  had  been  superintending 
the  children's  lessons  and  helping  with  stray  fragments 
of  sewing,  to  rush  upstairs  to  put  on  her  frock.  She 
had  tried  several  times  to  improve  Read's  fit,  but,  she 
feared,  with  very  indifferent  success. 

"  Oh,  how  I  wish  now  I  had  done  what  Megsy 
wi»hcd  me  to  do,  and  learned  to  sew  like  her.  But  I 
always  liked  going  about  with  Revvie  so  much  better." 
She  sighed  as  the  tears  fell  fast  on  the  irregularly 
bunched  seams  about  the  waist.  "And  I  am  sure  it 
does  not  sit  right  somehow.  I  know  I  shall  trip  over 
the  skirt  if  I  try  to  dance,  it  is  so  long  in  fri)nt.  Not 
i6  241 


THE     MAGIC     WAND 

that  any  one  will  ask  me.  Oh,  I  wonder  if  he  will  be 
there  to  dinner  to-night !  " 

At  last,  all  in  a  flutter  of  fear  and  excited  expec- 
tation, she  ran  downstairs  and  let  herself  out  without 
being  interrupted.  The  girls  were  all  busy  in  their 
rooms,  and  only  the  voice  of  Tom  could  be  heard  over 
the  balusters,  declaiming  about  a  lost  shirt  stud. 
Hester  summoned  an  ancient  four-wheeler,  which 
lurked  habitually  on  a  stand  at  the  corner,  and 
was  somewhat  dolefully  trundled  to  Scotstarvit  House, 
where,  in  spite  of  the  prevailing  bustle  of  preparation, 
she  found  herself  at  once  in  another  atmosphere. 

Upon  the  very  doorstep,  James  the  Statelier-than- 
usual  smiled  on  the  shy  young  girl.  "Yes,  her  Grace 
had  given  particular  orders  that  Miss  Stirling  was  to  be 
taken  directly  up  to  her  as  soon  as  she  arrived."  And 
with  a  quickly-beating  heart  the  girl  passed  through 
the  decorated  halls  and  up  a  staircase  as  broad  (so  it 
appeared  to  her)  as  the  steps  of  a  church. 

A  light  knock,  a  smiling  maid,  a  warm  delicious 
smell  of  roses,  and  Hester  found  herself  standing 
trembling  a  little  before  her  Grace  of  Niddisdale.  She 
had  expected  that  the  great  lady  would  be  already 
gorgeous  in  her  noblest  silks  and  most  magnificent 
jewels.  Instead,  the  unconventional  Duchess  was 
attired  in  a  dressing-jacket  and  yellow  flannel  petti- 
coat. Her  feet  were  thrust  into  red  Morocco  slippers 
without  heels,  and  she  had  a  dilapidated  French 
novel  in  her  hand. 

"  My  dear,"  she  cried,  without  turning  her  head, 
"come  round  and  let  me  look  at  you.  You  won't  mind 
me  not  coming  out  to  receive  you.  I  am  humouring 
my  great  grandfather's  gout,  and  I  want  to  be  all 
right    for  to-night.      Give    me  a   kiss.      There  —  why, 

242 


THE     AI  A  G  I  C     WAND 

child,  what  possessed  you  to  let  them  dress  you  like 
a  table-maid  going  out  with  her  Sunday  sweetheart  ? 
I  just  guessed  what  the  old  apothecary's  wife  would  be 
equal  to.  Child,  you  simply  can't  go  to  the  ball  in  a 
thing  like  that  !  " 

The  tears  sprang  to  Hester's  eyes.  Her  lip  quivered, 
and  a  great  lump  built  itself  slowly  up  in  her  throat. 

"  I  was  afraid  not,"  she  stammered ;  "  I  knew  you 
would  say  so.  But  it  was  all  I  had.  My  aunt  got 
Read,   her  maid,  to   make  it  up  for  me " 

And  Hester  broke  down. 

"  Come,  come,  childie.  Sit  down  by  me,  and  per- 
haps we  will  find  a  way  out  of  the  trouble,"  said  the 
Duchess,  kindly. 

But  Hester  had  found  her  tongue.  She  was  already 
drying  her  tears. 

"  How  silly  of  mc  !  I  did  not  mean  to  cry  —  but  I 
thought  —  I  won't  mind  about  the  ball  this  time.  I  will 
go  back  home  and  not  mind  a  bit " 

"Yes,  you  will  mind  very  much,"  said  the  Duchess, 
taking  Hester's  hand  and  drawing  her  down  upon  a 
footstool.  "  See,  there  is  a  stool  I  set  for  you  before 
you  came.  Sit  down  on  it,  lassie.  Do  as  your  grand- 
mother's oldest  friend  bids  ye  —  she  is  the  only  one  left 
alive,  wae's  me  ! 

"Now,"  said  the  Duchess,  patting  Hester's  curls  and 
bringing  her  head  against  her  comfortable  maternal  knee, 
"  I  want  you  to  trust  yourself  to  me  to-night  as  if  I 
were  your  own  grandmother.  This  house  is  my  house. 
This  ball  is  my  ball,  and  you  are  my  own  dear  god- 
daughter. Poor  Niddisdalc's  wife  is  dead,  you  know. 
Kiptord  has  not  yet  taken  one.  There  is  not  a  woman 
of  my  family  that  I  have  not  (juarrelled  with.  So  my 
god-daughter  must   support  mc  when    I   receive.      I  am 

243 


THE     MAGIC     WAND 

going  ofF  to  Homburg  to-morrow.  For  to-night  you 
belong  to  me.      What  do  you  say,  little  one  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  anything  you  wish,"  Hester  said,  grate- 
fully. "  No  one  has  been  so  kind  to  me  since  I  left 
Revvie  and   Megsy." 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  the  Duchess,  still  with 
her  hand  on  the  girl's  bowed  head.  "  But  mind,  no 
more  tears.  For  I  want  your  eyes  to  look  their  best. 
A  tear  or  two  does  not  matter — rather  helps  than 
otherwise,  I  used  to  think  when  I  cared  about  these 
things.      But  you  have  cried  more  than  enough  already  !  " 

So,  without  saying  a  word  against  even  the  bitterest 
of  her  persecutors,  Hester  told  of  her  life  in  the  North 
after  her  grandmother's  death,  of  Megsy  and  of  Revvie, 
of  her  coming  to  London,  and  of  all  the  desolate 
loneliness  of  life  at  Empress  Gate.  And  the  Duchess 
listened  and  thought. 

At  last,  quite  suddenly,  she  jumped  up  and  rang  the  bell 
vigorously.  "  Now  I  am  going  to  be  the  fairy  godmother 
indeed,"  she  said,  "  and  you  are  to  be  good  and  do  just 
what  I  tell  you,  not  less  and  not  more.  I  was  your  father's 
godmother,  too,  though  Heaven  forgive  me,  not  a  word 
of  his  catechism  did  I  ever  teach  him.  But  I  'm  going 
to  do  better  by  you  —  that  is,  if  you  will  let  me." 

And  her  Grace  pinched  Hester's  soft  young  cheek 
and  pointed  to  a  pink  dressing-gown  which  was  hanging 
limply  on  a  hook. 

"  First  of  all,  put  that  on,  and  then  I  shall  begin  to  wave 
my  fairy  wand  in  earnest.  First  wave,  enter  Neale. 
Neale,  ask  Madame  Celine's  people  to  come  this  way  ! " 

The  maid  departed,  and  after  a  moment  or  two 
returned  with  a  couple  of  smiling  assistants,  who  carried 
in  their  arms  certain  mysteriously  swathed  parcels. 
Hester  stood  up  with  a  long  sigh,  and   presently  to  her 

244 


THE     MAGIC     WAND 

enchanted  eyes  a  marvel  appeared  —  all  a-glister  with 
sheen  of  shimmering  white  with  a  soft  "  puff"  here  and 
there  of  lace,  fine  as  sea-foam  on  the  return  wave,  and, 
nestling  shyly  beneath  these,  half  revealed  and  half 
concealed,  the  dearest  and  most  lovesome  knots  of  real 
white  heather. 

"  Now,  Hester,  dear,"  said  the  Duchess,  looking  very 
pleased  and  happy,  "  on  with  it.  1  think  it  will  do. 
That  was  Madame  Celine  herself  who  was  here  the  last 
afternoon  you  took  tea  with  me.  She  measured  you 
with  her  eyes,  and  Madame  does  not  usually  make 
mistakes.  But  if  there  is  any  alteration  these  young 
ladies  will  do  it  in  lots  of  time." 

The  girl's  hands  were  trembling  so  that  she  could 
hardly  help  the  maid  who,  with  a  friendly  pleasure  in 
her  eves,  as  it  were  reflected  from  those  of  her  charge, 
helped  Hester  to  endue  her  slight  young  figure,  for  the 
first  time,  with  a  garment  that  enhanced  its  beauty. 

Happily,  'Madame  had  proved  worthy  of  her  reputa- 
tion and  of  the  Duchess's  confidence.  The  dress  fitted 
to  a  marvel. 

"  How  well  the  little  one  holds  her  head,"  murmured 
her  Grace  to  herself.  "  I  was  not  wrong.  She  will  be 
a  swan  yet,  and  no  ugly  duckling." 

But  the  girl  did  not  hear  her.  She  was  walking  in  a 
dream.  Something  began  to  buzz  in  her  head,  and  she 
seemed  suddenly  out  of  breath,  like  a  bird  taken  in  the 
hand.  The  silken  rustle  about  her  was  music  to  her 
ears,  and  a  kind  of  enchanted  perfume  exhaled  from  the 
very  lace  and  ribbons.  As  she  followed  the  Duchess  to 
the  great  pier-glass  she  felt  the  air  cold  on  her  neck  and 
shoulders.      Involuntarily  she  put  up  her  hands. 

"  Oh,"  she  thought,  "  I  can  never  go  into  a  ballroom 
with  it  open  like  this  !  " 

245 


THE     MAGIC     WAND 

"  It  fs  cut  very  high,  my  dear,"  said  the  voice  of  the 
Duchess,  who  in  looking  round  had  noticed  the  action. 
"  Madame  objected,  but  I  thought  it  most  fitting  for  a 
young  girl ! "  Then  Hester  looked  in  the  glass  and 
positively  gasped.  She  felt  that  someone  else  must  be 
behind  her,  and  repressed  a  tendency  to  turn  round. 
This  tall  and  —  yes  —  beautiful  girl  could  not  be  the 
same  Hester  Stirling  who,  an  hour  ago,  had  carefully 
wiped  off  her  old  brown  house-dress  the  tea  Grubby  had 
spilt  upon  it.  She  saw  reflected  the  image  of  a  girl  with 
a  flush  of  colour  in  her  cheeks,  slightly  parted  lips,  red 
as  coral,  and  large  eyes  at  once  sparkling  with  excite- 
ment and  dark  with  potentialities  of  passion  and  tears. 
It  was  all  a  realm  of  enchantment  to  Hester,  and  for 
once  she  seemed  the  changeling  princess  of  her  own 
dreams.  Strangely  enough,  and  even  uniquely  strange, 
there  was  no  fairy  prince  to  be  the  crowning  happiness 
of  this  fairyland  —  only  the  joy  of  living,  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  on,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
a  perfectly  fitting   frock. 

But  something  entirely  mundane  recalled  her  to  her- 
self. She  saw  Vic's  old  slippers  peep  from  under  the 
straight  fall  of  the  skirt.  She  slipped  them  back  at 
once,  but  not  before  the  sharp  eye  of  her  Grace  had 
caught  sight  of  their  condition. 

"Open  the  under  door  of  that  wardrobe,  Neale,"  she 
said,  smiling. 

And  lo !  ranged  in  a  glancing  beaded  row  were  a 
dozen   pairs  of  shoes. 

"  I  had  them  sent  up  from  Methven's  on  approval," 
said  the  old  lady  triumphantly,  enjoying  Hester's  sur- 
prise with  all  the  zest  of  a  generous  schoolgirl  whose 
day   it  is  to  treat   her  companions. 

"  And  as  for  your  flowers  —  all  in  good  time,"  she 
246 


THE     MAGIC     WAND 

continued ;  "  that  daft  laddie,  Cams,  has  had  every 
gamekeeper  and  herd  on  all  Darrochside  quartering  the 
moors  for  white  heather.  There  will  be  a  dearth  of 
good  luck  in   Galloway   for  the  next  ten  years  ! " 

It  came  to  Hester  with  a  sudden  warm  flush,  spread- 
ing upward  about  her  heart,  that  Carus  would  be  there. 
Carus  would  see  her  like  this.  Perhaps  she  did  not 
really  look  pretty.  Very  likely  it  was  all  in  her  own 
eves,  and  at  the  thought  she  turned  away  her  head 
quickly  from  the  pier-glass,  yet  womanlike  took  just 
one  last   half-shy  glance  back  over  her  shoulder. 

Her  Grace  laughed,  and,  gomg  up  to  the  girl,  pinched 
and  kissed  her  on  the  cheek. 

"  Do  that  to-night,  my  lassie,  and  you  will  break 
hearts  !  "  she  said. 

"  Do  what  ?  "  asked  Hester,  much  astonished. 

"  All  too  soon  you  will  know,"  said  her  Grace,  smil- 
ino;  and  shaking  her  head ;  "  and  now  off  with  your 
finerv  and- into  that  dressing-gown  again!  We  may 
play  later,  but  meantime,  in  spite  of  braw  goons  and 
new  shoon,  we  must  feed  the  inner  woman.  Come 
along  !  " 

Then  afterwards  Hester  had  again  to  resign  herself 
into  the  hands  of  Neale  while  the  Duchess  stood  by 
and  criticised. 

"  No  one  can  do  hair  like  Neale,"  she  said,  "  but 
make  her  keep  it  simple  —  higher  behind,  Neale,  to 
show  the  nape  of  the  neck.  Providence  did  not  stick 
on  your  head  with  a  screw-nail,  my  dear,  and  you  must 
live  up  to  it." 

So  with  all  goodwill  the  swift-fingered  Neale  plied 
her  task.  Hester's  abundant  hair  was  piled  high  on 
her  head,  where,  having  never  been  so  treated  before, 
it    constantly    broke    bounds    in    a    ripple    of    rebellious 

247 


THE     MAGIC     WAND 

ringlets,  which  shadowed  the  brow  softly  and  doubled 
the  effect  of  the  long  dark  lashes  of  her  eyes. 

The  Duchess  clapped  her  hands  as  she  watched. 

''  Was  there  ever  such  a  fairy  godmother  out  of  story- 
books ?  Why,  our  little  Hester  is  transformed.  You 
may  not  be  quite  a  beauty  yet,  little  one,  but  you  are 
something  better.  You  are  the  very  image  of  what 
your  grandmother  was  on  her  marriage  day.  There, 
sit  down  and  read  a  book  —  no,  not  that  one."  (She 
made  a  dash  and  picked  up  the  yellow  cover  off  the 
floor.)  "Now  I  must  rush  and  get  on  my  dowager's 
brocade.  I  will  not  take  half  as  long  as  you  — '  a  bonny 
bride  is  soon  buskit,'  you  know  the  old  Scots  proverb." 

Left  to  herself,  Hester  tried  to  fix  her  attention  on 
the  novel  her  Grace  of  Niddisdale  had  given  her,  but 
she  seemed  to  hear  nothing  but  the  thick  beating  of  her 
heart,  and  she  breathed  so  deeply  that  the  silk  and  lace 
on  her  bosom  seemed  to  breathe  too.  The  letters  on 
the  page  grew  curiously  fluid.  The  words  did  not  seem 
to  mean  anything,  though  here  and  there  in  after  years 
a  phrase  or  a  name  stood  out  keenly  remembered. 

"  I  hope  I  'm  doing  right,"  said  the  Duchess  thought- 
fully, as  she  submitted  herself  to  Neale.  "  What  won- 
derful eyes !  The  iris  seems  to  have  expanded  so  as  to 
covel  everything  right  to  the  edge  of  the  white.  And 
such  an  eager  yearning  to  be  loved  as  is  in  the  child's 
heart !  Well,  she  has  no  mother,  I  must  look  after 
her,  that 's  all.  No,  she  may  not  be  a  beauty  as  two 
men  out  of  three  count  beauty,  but  —  she  will  wind  the 
third  man  round  her  little  finger." 


248 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

CARUS  IN  LOVE 

HESTER  never  forgot  the  appearance  of  the  ball- 
room at  Scotstarvit  House  as  she  entered  it  for 
the  first  time  with  her  Grace.  The  great  ancient 
chandeliers,  which  dated  from  the  time  of  Charles  the  Sec- 
ond, were  brilliant  with  wax  candles,  and  the  floor  of  pol- 
ished wood  glistened  emptily  and,  as  it  seemed,  illimitably 
beneath  them.  There  was  the  green  of  ferns  and  palms 
and  foliage  evervwhere,  and  from  beneath  the  wide  arch 
of  the  conservatory  there  came  the  tinkling  of  tiny 
waterfalls. 

It  seemed  to  Hester  that  she  must  be  temporarily 
somebody  else  as  she  stood  near  the  entrance  with  my 
lady  of  Niddisdale.  All  her  girlish  fear  had  left  her, 
and  as  the  guests  began  to  arrive  she  did  her  share,  as 
the  Duchess  said  afterwards,  with  the  aplomb  of  an  old 
campaigner. 

Niddisdale  himself, to  whom  ballrooms  were  anathema, 
had  kept  away  on  purpose. 

^'  But  then  no  one  ever  expected  anything  else,"  said 
his  mother.  Kipford,  however,  was  at  hand  and,  taking 
time  by  the  forelock,  had  written  himself  down  on 
Hester's  card  for  half-a-dozen  dances.  He  smiled  to 
himself  as  he  took  advantage  of  her  inexperience  to 
appropriate  all  the  best  round  dances  to  himself.  Kip- 
ford danced  very  well,  and  he  had  heard  his  grandmother 
rave  about  what   she   had   seen  when   she  surprised  Hes- 

249 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

ter's  lesson  with  the  old  Frenchman  who  had  taught  his 
own  father  to  dance  in  the  first  days  of  his  long  exile. 

Carus  also  came  up,  eagerly  soliciting  the  first  dance, 
but  his  grandmother  bade  him  be  ofF.  He  had  other 
fish  to  fry  if  he  was  to  do  his  duty.  She  would  see 
that  he  did  not  dance  attendance  on  her  god-daughter. 
Nevertheless,  Carus  had  managed  to  outwit  authority 
sufficiently  long  to  whisper,  ''Will  you  keep  me  the 
third  waltz  ?  "  and  Hester  had  nodded  happily  —  not  a 
bit  because  the  prince  had  come,  but  because  in  the 
wonderful  glamour  of  that  first  evening  she  did  not  feel 
the  need  of  any. 

Many  looked  at  her  as  she  stood  behind  the  Duchess 
vivid  with  life,  and  with  a  kind  of  inner  purity  and 
freshness  shining  from  her  that  was  more  than  beauty. 
These  were  mostly  men.  The  women  wanted  to  get 
nearer  in  order  to  see  the  wonderful  Oriental  necklace 
of  filmy  gold  chains,  from  which  looked  out  the  red  eye 
of  the  ruby  which  her  father  had  given  her  the  day  he 
sat  on  the  stone  seat  by  the  sun-dial  in  the  old  garden  at 
Arioland.  It  was  the  only  spot  of  colour  about  her,  and 
the  Duchess  had  insisted  on  her  vt^earing  it. 

"  It  is  your  father's  blessing,  my  dear,  and  may  some 
day  be  your  fortune  !  "   she  said. 

But  the  great  event  of  the  evening  for  Hester  was  at 
hand.  The  Torphichan-Stirlings  were  arriving,  my 
lady  gorgeous  in  black  brocade  of  the  stifFest,  Ethel  in 
pink  and  black,  Vic  in  old  gold,  and  Claudia  the  statu- 
esque in  close-fitting  white  satin. 

Hester's  aunt  bowed  low  to  the  young  lady  at  the 
Duchess's  elbow  without  the  least  notion  who  she  was. 
But  Ethel  recognised  her  at  a  glance,  and  stood  like 
one  stricken,  the  red  and  white  striving  and  alternating 
on  her  cheek.     She  turned  half  round  upon  her  cousin 

250 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

as  if  about  to  say  something.  Then,  recovering  herself, 
she  passed  on,  biting  her  lips.  Claudia  moved  majes- 
tically past  as  if  she  had  not  seen  any  one  but  her 
Grace. 

Vic,  however,  who  came  last,  sprang  forward  with  a 
glad  cry. 

"  Oh,  you  dear,"  she  cried,  with  her  arms  round 
Hester,  "  so  you  have  been  keeping  all  this  up  your 
sleeve.  How  sold  the  enemy  will  be  !  I  would  not 
have  missed  this   for  a  thousand   pounds  !  " 

And  Tom,  his  hand  upon  his  moustache,  hovered 
about  like  a  dragon-fly  round  a  gnat-haunted  pool,  afraid 
to  approach  too  near  for  fear  of  catching  the  eye  of  the 
Duchess,  and  yet  unable  to  leave  such  a  wonder  as  this 
little  Cousin  Hester,  of  whom  he  had  hitherto  taken  so 
little  notice. 

At  last  he  got  his  chance.  Carus  had  come  again  and 
had  departed,  looking  very  indignant.      Tom  slid  in. 

"  Hester,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  can't  ask  you 
to  dance.  I  'm  no  good  at  that.  But  I  want  you  to 
sit  out  a  square  dance  or  so  with  me.  I  've  got  some- 
thing to  say  to  you.  And  oh,  I  say,  I  just  can't  help 
telling  you  that  you  are  a  stunner.  Where  did  you  get 
that  dress  ?  It  is  the  prettiest  in  the  room,  and  you  are 
the  prettiest  girl !  " 

"The  Duchess  gave  it  to  me,"  said  Hester, demurely. 
"Of  course  I'll  sit  out  with  you,  Tom  dear,  whenever 
you  like  !  " 

As  the  young  man  turned  away  he  quailed  under  his 
father's  eye.  The  eminent  physician  stood  by  a  palm 
surveying  the  changing  group  round  Hester  with  a  kind 
of  tigerish  look  on  his  face.  Tom  slunk  past  meekly 
enough,  but  Sir  Sylvanus  did  not  even  glance  at  him. 
His   eyes    were   on    Hester's    necklace,   and    he    seemed 


CARUSIN     LOVE 

fascinated  by  the  red  eye  of  the  ruby  in  its  network  of 
golden  chains. 

He,  too,  watched  his  chance  and  approached  Hester 
as  she  moved  towards  the  orchestra  with  a  message 
from  the  Duchess. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  tone 
stifled  and  menacing.  And  as  he  spoke  he  laid  a  pulpy 
finger  on  the  pigeon's  blood  ruby. 

"My  father  gave  it  to  me,"  said  Hester,  blushing. 
For  till  to-night  she  had  never  taken  it  out  of  the  little 
box  in  which  Megsy  had  kept  it.  Indeed,  it  still  re- 
tained a  faint  reminiscent  smell  of  Megsy's  tea-caddy, 
where  it  had  lain  so  long,  waiting  for  its  mistress  "  to 
grow  up  and   play  with   it." 

"That  is  a  lie  !  "  said  her  uncle,  in  a  low  voice,  and 
turned  away  with  a  countenance  ashen  white  and  hands 
that  trembled. 

"  Her  father  gave  it  to  her,"  he  said  to  himself;  "  she 
has  kept  it  all  the  time  !  What  if  that  abominable  old 
woman  has  put  her  up  to  this.  She  may  suspect  — 
every  one  knows  that  I  made  my  money  in  rubies  —  let 
me  think —  let  me  think  —  !  " 

Thus  the  "  father's  blessing  "  came  home  as  a  curse 
to  one  guilty  conscience  in  that  room.  The  dead  hand 
gripped  from  afar.  The  girl's  very  innocence  seemed 
unutterably  dangerous,  and  Sylvanus  shivered  at  the 
memory  of  his  crime,  as  to  a  murderer  the  shadow  of  a 
wayside  cross  may  shape  out  a  gallows  on  the  dust. 

But  even  her  uncle's  half-heard  words  cast  only  a 
momentary  cloud  on  the  sweetness  of  Hester's  dream. 
She  was  perfectly  happy  when  she  glided  into  the  first 
dance  with  Kipford.  It  was  scarcely  a  dance.  Their 
feet  moved  without  volition.  They  seemed  upborne  on 
white  summer  clouds,  and  when  the  music  stopped  they 

252 


"AlTKK     IIIIS    HkSIKK    had    So    I.ACK    UK    lAK  l.NKKS." 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

found  themselves  suddenly  brought  to  earth,  and  heard 
the  hum  of  voices  about  them  sound  strange  to  their 
resentful  ears. 

Kipford  emerged  raving  about  his  partner.  There 
never  had  been  such  a  born  dancer  as  this  girl  his  grand- 
mother had  taken  such  a  fancy  to  —  "  Old  familv  too, 
long-lost  god-child  —  knew  her  by  the  catechism  mark  ! 
And,  by  Jove,  that  ruby  must  be  worth  some  tin  — never 
saw  such  a  thing.  But  her  dancing  —  my  dear  fellow, 
it  takes  you  clean  off  your  feet  !  " 

"  How  about  your  head.  Waffles  ? "  his  comrades 
retorted. 

And  so  after  this,  of  course,  Hester  had  no  lack  of 
partners.  She  could  have  filled  her  card  half-a-dozen 
times  over,  till  at  last  she  was  reduced  to  shaking  her 
head  and  saying,  "  There  's  my  cousin  Vic  over  there. 
She  dances  quite  as  well  as  I  do  and  is  ever  so  much 
nicer  !  " 

For  Hester  did  not  forget  her  friends,  and  presently 
Vic  also  was  entirely  happy. 

When  Carus  Darroch  came  for  his  third  waltz  he  was 
furious. 

"Why,  it's  all  full,"  he  said,  "not  a  Jack  one  — 
well,  I  think  you  might  have  kept  one  or  two  for  me, 
your  oldest  friend  in  the  room  by  a  great  deal !  " 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  said  Hester,  penitently,  "  but  you 
see  I  was  so  afraid  that  nobody  would  ask  me  to  dance 
at  all,  like  that  girl  Ethel  Torphichan  tells  about " 

"  Oh,  nonsense,"  said  Carus,  very  rudely  for  him. 
For  he,  too,  remembered  the  lesson  with  Monsieur,  and 
had  counted  on  this  experience  for  a  long  time. 

"And,  besides,  you   know,"  continued    Hester,  taking 

no  notice  of  his  exclamation,  "  I  thought " 

She  hesitated,  and  looked  at  her  fan. 
253 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

«  You  thought  what  ?  " 

'■*■  I  thought  that  you  would  be  so  much  engaged  with 
Ethel  that  you  would  not  care  to  dance  —  with  anybody 
else." 

"  Not  care  !  "  Carus  was  gnawing  the  end  of  his 
moustache  now.  Yet  for  the  life  of  him  he  could  not 
get  the  next  words  out.  He  was  quite  unconscious  of 
the  curious  look  his  father  was  bending  upon  him  from 
behind  a  palm.  Lord  Darroch  was  merely  putting  in 
his  time  till  a  suitable  card  party  could  be  arranged  by 
talking  to  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  about  the  game 
laws,  and  the  necessity  for  "  being  severe  with  the  fel- 
lows."    He  had  just  got  a  new  gamekeeper  on  purpose. 

"  It  is  time  for  our  dance,"  said  Hester.  "  Are  you 
very  angry  with  me  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Carus,  savagely,  "  but  I  '11  take  it  out  of 
that  young  dog  Waffles  when  I  get  hold  of  him." 

They  moved  off.  Carus  was  not  a  first-rate  dancer 
like  Kipford,  but  Hester  seemed  somehow  to  understand, 
and  fell  into  step  so  wonderfully,  that  in  a  moment  she 
had  imparted  to  her  partner  some  of  her  own  consum- 
mate ease  and  grace.  Carus  had  never  been  so  near  her 
before.  A  subtle  essence  seemed  to  breathe  from  her, 
as  of  the  freshness  of  spring  mornings,  of  linen  clean 
and  delicate,  and  of  the  charm  of  joyous  girlhood.  These 
came  to  him  and  well-nigh  made  his  brain  reel.  He 
looked  down  at  her  with  a  sudden-springing  tenderness. 

"Hester,"    he    said,   "just    now  you   said   I    did   not 

care "      But  he  could  get  no  further.      Indeed,  he 

did  not  in  the  least  know  what  he  wanted  to  say. 

She  looked  at  him,  and  her  eyes,  large,  dewy,  and 
filled  with  the  light  of  excitement  and  happiness,  fairly 
dazzled  him. 

"  I  have  not  thanked  you  for  getting  me  the  white 
254 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

heather,"  she  murmured,  and  dropped  them  again.  Carus 
did  not  try  to  speak  again.  He  only  let  himself  go  till 
the  music  ceased. 

"  Do  you  know  I  have  been  steering  you  all  the 
time  ?  "  she  said,  as  he  led  her  towards  the  conservatory. 

"  Oh  !    I  only  wish  you  could "   Carus  began, 

with  a  very  clear  idea  now  of  what  he  meant  to  say. 
But  at  that  moment  he  saw  his  father  watching  him 
from  the  doorway. 

"Yes?"  queried  Hester,  quietly.  Her  heart  was 
beating  fast  with  happiness.  It  would  soon  end,  of 
course,  but  meantime  she  would  not  think  of  that.  And 
Carus  —  well,  Carus  was  Carus,  of  course,  and  nicer 
than   anybody   else. 

"  I  wish  you  would  lend  me  your  programme  for  a 
minute  ?  "  he  said,  without  finishing  his  former  sentence. 

"  I  can't  —  my  partner  will  be  here  in  a  moment  for 
the  next  dance  !  " 

"The  next  is  mine,  my  young  lady,"  said  Tom, 
coming  up.  "  What  do  you  want  with  that  card, 
Darroch  ?  " 

But  Carus  was  gone. 

He  discovered  Kipford  talking  to  Vic  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room,  and  swooped  straight  down  upon  him. 

"  Did  you  see  Lady  Niddisdalc  looking  for  you.  Waf- 
fles ?  "   he  said,  shamelessly. 

"No;  where  is  granny  ?  "  said  the  youth,  promptly, 
falling  into  the  snare,  "Pardon  me  a  moment,  Miss 
Vic!" 

Carus  also  murmured  an  excuse  to  Vic,  and  as  soon 
as  they  were  a  few  steps  off  he  took  his  companion  by 
the  arm. 

"See  here,  Waffles,"  he  said,  "you  disgorge!  You 
had    no   business   to   snap    up   all   the   best    numbers   on 

255 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

Hester  Stirling's  card  when  I  was  dancing  attendance 
on  the  dowagers.  Now  I  'm  going  to  have  the  rest  of 
these  bar  one,  and  you  can  sit  them  out  with  Vic 
over  there.  I  don't  think  you  '11  mind  much.  You 
and  she  seem  great  chums  all  of  a  sudden." 

"  1  '11  be  hanged  if  I  do,"  said  Waffles,  rebelliously. 

"  Now,  attend  to  me.  Waffles  dear,"  said  Carus, 
softly ;  "  I  've  licked  you  before,  and  I  '11  lick  you 
again  —  yes,  this  very  night,  if  I  have  to  take  you  down 
to  the  billiard-room  to  do  it." 

Waffles  had  not  been  a  fag  in  vain,  and  he 
weakened. 

"  But  how  do  you  know  that  I  can  make  it  up  with 
Victoria  ?  "  he  grumbled. 

"  Because  I  have  just  seen  her  card,  and  I  know  she 
has  the  vacancies.  Let  me  mark  your  tally  for  you. 
There  you  are,  my  boy.  Go  in  and  win  !  Bless  you, 
my  children." 

Carus  was  jubilant. 

"  Oh,  you  unutterable  beast !  "  growled  Kipford, 
staring  at  his  mangled  card.  "  You  've  gone  and  nicked 
all  the  waltzes,  except  one  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Carus,  mildly,  "  too  much  candy  is  not 
good  for  little  boys.  Stick  to  pudding.  Waffles  — stick 
to  pudding  !  " 

Swiftly,  all  too  swiftly,  the  tides  of  this  New  World 
swept  Hester  onwards.     The  hours  fled  past. 

"You  are  making  a  triumph,  my  dear,"  said  the 
Duchess,  smilingly,  "  and  I  am  glad  you  are  not  dancing 
too  much  with  any  one  man." 

Hester's  conscience  smote  her  a  little.  Carus  had 
just  returned  her  the  amended  list  of  her  engagements. 
She  blushed  hotly  at  the  thought.  Still,  after  all,  it 
was    in    no    way    her    fault.      He   had    done  it  without 

256 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

telling  her.  It  is  strange,  however,  that  it  did  not 
occur  to  Hester  to  object  to  being  made  the  subject  of 
exchange  and  barter.  There  was  something  masterful 
about  Carus  Darroch  always.  She  seemed  to  hear  his 
voice  as  he  carried  her  through  the  dark  woods,  and  to 
feel  the  sickening  pain  jn  her  lame  foot.  Again  she 
thrilled  at  the  touch  of  his  lips  as  he  extracted  the  thorn. 
Again  she  tasted  the  blessed  relief  of  feeling  perfectly 
safe  in  his  hands. 

Meanwhile  many  eyes  watched  the  girl  — none,  how- 
ever, so  full  of  the  gall  of  bitterness  as  Ethel's  angry 
blue  ones.  In  the  whirl  of  every  round  dance  she  still 
kept  an  eye  upon  her  cousin.  She  sat  out  the  square 
sets  with  a  heart  that  secreted  ill-natured  speeches. 
These  she  proved  on  Claudia,  sharpening  them  upon 
that  young  lady's  more  selfish  hatred,  as  iron  sharp- 
eneth  iron.  But  when  she  came  to  deliver  them  to  Carus 
Darroch,  somehow  they  seemed  to  fail  of  their  effect. 
He  had  a  grave  air  of  preoccupation,  and  stared  at 
Ethel  with  such  lofty  surprise,  that  she  was  compelled 
to  turn  elsewhere  to  give  her  malice  vent.  But  acid 
and  spiteful  as  the  two  girls  were,  there  was  something 
infinitely  more  deadly  behind  the  dull  leaden  brow  and 
lack-lustre  eyes  of  the  eminent  physician  and  philan- 
thropist, Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan. 

Meantime,  Hester  danced  on  all  unconscious.  She 
seemed  to  herself  as  well  as  to  others  a  different 
creature.  Like  a  flower  that  bourgeons  in  the  sunshine 
after  genial  rain,  the  girl  actually  seemed  to  alter  visibly 
in  this  atmosphere  of  kindness  and  admiration.  She 
was  so  glad  to  be  able  to  please  people,  so  innocently 
happy  to  be  thought  pretty.  After  all  these  dark 
repressed  years  it  was  wonderful  to  find  that  she  had  the 
power  of  making  others  happv  with  a  smile. 
17  257 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

But  the  time  was  growing  terribly  short.  Dance 
after  dance  winged  itself  away.  It  was  always  Carus 
now.  He  had  altered  her  card  most  unscrupulously, 
and  Kipford,  solacing  himself  with  Vic,  shook  a  surrep- 
titious list  at  his  cousin. 

"I  say,  old  man,"  he  whispered  once  in  a  pause, 
"  look  out  for  squalls  from  your  governor  to-morrow  — 
and,  by  the  way,  Sir  Apothecary  looks  pretty  dusty 
too." 

"  Vl'^affles,"  said  Carus,  mildly,  "  I  thought  that  in 
time  past  I  had  done  my  duty  by  you,  but  it  appears  that 
I  have  not  yet  impressed  upon  you  that  it  is  your  best 
policy  to  mind  your  own  business.  I  shall  try  again  and 
succeed,  if  you  don't  look  out  !  " 

"  All  right,  dear  boy,"  rejoined  Kipford  over  his 
shoulder,  "  I  was  only  warning  you,  that 's  all  !  " 

But  Carus  did  not  want  to  be  warned.  He  had  taken 
the  bit  between  his  teeth.  He  did  not  care  for  his  father 
or  anybody's  father.  He  was  madly  in  love.  He  owned 
it  to  himself.  It  was  pain  to  see  Hester  give  even  her 
hand  to  another  man.  How  could  she  be  interested  in 
the  inanities  of  this  and  that  fool  ?  — 

"  Do  you  like  the  floor  ?  Are  not  the  decorations 
perfect !  What  very  poor  champagne  they  are  giving 
—  did  you  ever  see  the  like?  Have  you  been  down  to 
supper  ?  (He  thanked  Heaven  he  had  forestalled  them 
there.)  That  idiot  of  a  Tom  —  not  Tom,  but  tomfool  — 
what  could  she  have  to  laup-h  about  with  him  ?  What 
if  they  were  in  love  with  each  other  all  the  time  !  Tom 
never  went  to  balls ;  why  had  he  come  to  this  and 
stayed  all  night  ?  "  And  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  The 
pattern  is  constant  with  earnest  young  men,  driven  this 
way  and  that  by  the  primal  ardencies  of  love. 

"  How  could  she  appear  so  unconscious  ?  Why  did 
258 


CARUS     IN     LOVE 

she  never  look  at  him  ?  She  was  a  hard-hearted  little 
flirt,  of  that  unconscious  sort  which  is  ever  the  most 
deadly.  Pshaw  !  he  would  dismiss  the  matter  —  he 
would  think  no  more  about  such  a  girl." 

But  just  then  Hester,  passing  on  Kipford's  arm,  lifted 
her  eyes  once  to  his  as  he  stood  gloomily  apart.  She 
smiled,  and  his  heart  went  into  his  throat  with  the 
suddenness  of  physical  pain.  "  What  an  angel !  Was 
ever  any  one  so  lovely  ?  "  He  tingled  to  his  finger-tips 
with  desire  to  carry  her  off"  there  and  then  —  to  the 
Pacific  Isles,  to  Hampstead,  to  the  North  Pole  —  to  any 
wild  and  desolate  place  where  they  would  be  sufficiently 
alone  together  for  ever  and  ever.  3^^j,  and  he  luould  do 
;V,  too. 


259 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

THE   WORM    TURNS 

WHEN  he  came  to  himself  he  heard  his  grand- 
mother talking  quickly  and  persuasively  to 
Lady  Torphichan-Stirling. 
Her  Grace  of  Niddisdale  hoped  that  her  dear  friend 
had  enjoyed  the  ball  —  at  least,  in  the  way  in  which 
seniors  like  themselves  could  expect  to  enjoy  such  things 
—  finding  enjoyment  in  seeing  the  happiness  of  the 
young.  Yet  she  was  forgetting  —  in  comparison  with 
her  Grace,  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  was  still  among 
the  juveniles.  She  must  therefore  humour  the  caprices 
of  a  really  old  woman.  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  would 
extend  her  kindness  yet  a  little  further.  To-morrow 
her  Grace  was  leaving  England  for  some  time  —  "we 
must  all  patch  up  the  frail  tabernacle.  Sir  Sylvanus,  must 
we  not?"  —  would  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  permit 
little  Hester  to  stay  with  her  that  night  ?  Perhaps  on 
another  occasion  one  of  Lady  Stirling's  own  beautiful 
daughters  would  take  pity  on  a  lonely  old  woman. 

Carus  picked  up  heart  of  hope.  Here  was  an  oppor- 
tunity ready-made  from  the  hands  of  fate.  He  would 
ask  Kipford  to  put  him  up  at  Scotstarvit  House  for  the 
night.  He  listened  eagerly  for  Lady  Torphichan- 
Stirling's  reply. 

That  excellent  lady  was  obviously  in  a  difficulty. 
She  had  had  her  instructions  from  Ethel  and  Claudia, 
who  were  raging  jointly  and  severally  to  fly  at  Hester's 
throat  as  soon  as  they  got  her  away. 

260 


THE     WORM     TURNS 

But  the  Baronet  himself  struck  in  over  his  wife's 
shoulder. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  my  dear  Duchess,"  he  said  in 
his  softest  manner,  "it  was  indeed  most  kind  that  your 
Grace  should  interest  yourself  in  the  child.  Her  life 
till  lately  has  been  such  a  sad  and  unfortunate  one.  She 
succeeded  to  a  heritage  of  disgrace.  I  am  sorry  to 
speak  of  a  relative  of  my  dear  wife's  in  this  manner. 
But  Sarah  will  bear  me  out  that  nothing  else  does  justice 
to  the  facts." 

So  no  alternative  remained  to  Lady  Torphichan- 
Stirling  but  to  collect  her  brood  and  make  ready  to  sail 
down  the  stairs  of  Scotstarvit  House.  Hester  came  up 
with  Vic,  feeling  that  now  indeed  her  fate  was  come 
upon  her.  But  her  aunt  received  her  with  an  ominous 
chill  and  an  intimation  that  at  the  request  of  the 
Duchess  she  was  to  remain  the  night  at  Scotstarvit 
House.  Hester  thanked  her  aunt  falteringly,  and  then 
turned  to  say  good-bye  to  Vic. 

"  See  you  to-morrow  morning,  old  girl,  and  get  all  your 
news  about  everything,"  was  that  oft-hand  young  lady's 
reply.     "Nicest  ball  I  ever  was  at,  don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  I  never  was  at  any  other,  you  see,"  said  Hester, 
smiling,  "  but  it  has  been  very  nice." 

"  You  will  have  to  stiffen  your  back  to-morrow,  little 
girl,"  whispered  Vic,  "  Eth  is  as  sulky  as  a  bear  with  a 
sore  head.  Look  at  her  face  now.  Pleasant,  is  n't  it  ? 
She  won't  be  any  better  in  the  morning.  But  never 
mind,  dear,  Tom  and  I  will  pull  you  through  somehow  ! 
And  I  '11  send  you  some  of  your  ordinary  togs  for  the 
morning." 

"  Thank  you,  Vic,  dear  ;  you  arc  always  kind,"  said 
Hester,  giving  her  friend  an  impulsive  little  hug  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs. 

261 


THE     WORM     TURNS 

*'  Now  I  'm  ofF  to  be  the  pariah  of  a  virtuous  estab- 
lishment, all  the  way  home  in  that  horrid  old  carriage  !  " 

The  Baronet  smiled  upon  his  niece  as  he  went  out, 
and  Hester  looked  up  at  him  even  gratefully.  But 
there  was  something  in  the  unsmiling  eyes  at  once  so 
baleful  and  so  threatening  that  Carus's  vague  instinctive 
dislike  for  the  distinguished  physician  changed  into 
frantic  hatred  upon  the  spot. 

"  Thank  heaven,  that 's  over,"  sighed  the  Duchess 
sinking  into  a  chair  in  the  cardroom,  where  a  fire  had 
been  kept  up  by  the  whist  party  under  the  auspices  of 
my  Lord  Darroch.  "  Hello,  Carus,  what  are  you  doing 
here  ?  Why  have  n't  you  gone  off  to  your  rooms  with 
the  rest  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you  all  safe  to  bed,"  said  Carus. 
"  I  've  been  having  the  painters  in,  and  Kipford  is 
giving  me  a  bed  in  his  dressing-room  till  the  smell  goes 
off  a  bit!" 

"  How  wonderful  is  a  kind  Providence,"  sighed  the 
old  lady,  "  it  is  simply  beautiful,  the  fitness  which 
arranges  that  these  dispensations  shall  always  take  place 
when  I  have  a  pretty  girl  staying  with  me.  But  I 
will  see  to  it  that  you  do  not  profit  by  the  Providence 
which  rules  the  outgoings  and  incomings  of  painters. 
You  have  not  behaved  at  all  well,  sir !  I  am  not  pleased 
with  you.  Why  did  you  not  take  the  apothecary's 
daughter  down  to  supper  as  was  your  bounden  duty, 
sir  ?  You  know  your  father  was  watching  you  like  a 
lynx,  and  he  will  excite  himself  over  it  when  you  meet 
—  which  is  bad  for  him,  seeing  that  his  heart  is  so 
weak." 

Carus  muttered  the  first  excuse  that  came  into  his 
head. 

"  No,  you  can't  get  out  of  it  that  way,  Master  Carus. 
262 


THE     WORM     TURNS 

I  saw  you  a  moment  before  when  I  was  talking  to  the 
mother.  Now  I  do  not  care  a  biscuit  whom  you  marry, 
but  I  am  going  to  see  that  you  do  not  make  my  sweet 
httle  friend  unhappy  till  you  have  got  your  Lord-High- 
Masterly  mind  made  up  !  " 

And  she  nodded  to  Hester,  who,  under  the  escort  of 
Kipford,  was  watching  with  interest  the  contractor's 
men  putting  out  the  candles  and  removing  the  decora- 
tions of  the  ballroom. 

"You  wrong  mc,  I  would  not  make  her  unhappy  for 
the  world,"  Carus  began,  and  then  he  stopped.  He  had 
some  vague  idea  of  confessing  his  love  and  throwing 
himself  on  his  grandmother's  goodwill.  But  somehow 
he  could  not  muster  the  courage.  Her  Grace  had 
always  been  good  to  him,  but  he  had  always  known 
that  he  must  marry  money.  His  father  had  told  him  so 
a  thousand  times  with  brutal  frankness.  Niddisdale 
had  impressed  the  need  upon  him  with  dignified  clear- 
ness. His- grandmother  jested  continually  about  it,  yet 
with  an  air  that  told  how  thoroughly  she  understood  the 
necessity.  The  opportunity  passed.  Hester  came  up 
with  Kipford,  and  was  promptly  whisked  upstairs  by  the 
Duchess  out  of  his  sight. 

Kipford  led  the  way  to  the  smoking-room,  Carus 
gloomily   following  in   his  wake. 

The  former  made  no  remark  till  he  had  opened  a  new 
box  of  his  father's  cigars,  and  let  the  gas  escape  from 
a  soda-water  bottle  with  a  loud  report. 

Then  he  spoke,  without  looking  at  his  friend,  ap- 
parently to  the  long  tumbler  with  the  ice  tinkling 
in   it. 

"No  end  of  a  fine  Lnrl  that,  Darroch  —  pity  her  people 
arc  not  more  —  eh  ?  " 

He  stopped  in  surprise,  for  Cams  had  turned  the  face 
263 


THE     WORM     TURNS 

upon  him  with  which  he  used  to  lick  him  in  the  days  of 
his  fagship. 

"  Her  people  are  as  good  as  yours  —  better  than 
mine !  "   he  said,  fiercely. 

"  Don't  jump  down  a  fellow's  throat,  Carus,"  said 
Kipford,  laughing  a  little  uneasily,  "  you  know  yourself 
you  don't  much  cotton  to  that  sanctimonious  doctor 
humbug  ? '' 

*'  And  what  has  he  to  do  with  her?" 

"  Why,  he  is  her  father  !  " 

Carus  looked  at  Kipford  as  if  he  had  suddenly  gone 
crazy. 

"  Of  whom  have  you  been  talking  all  this  time  ?  "  he 
asked,  coldly. 

"Why,  Vic  Torphichan,  of  course!"  Kipford  broke 
into  a  laugh.  "Oh,  I  see!  And  you  of  that  little  girl 
granny  has  swept  off  upstairs  with  her.  Go  slow,  old 
man,  go  slow !  You  know  you  danced  with  her  far  too 
much  to-night.  And  pray  how  often  did  you  dance 
with  your  Ethel  ?  " 

Carus  muttered  a  fierce  rejoinder. 

"  Yes,  it  is  my  business,  Carus.  You  were  too  far 
gone  to  see  your  governor  lying  off  in  the  wings,  and  the 
medico-Baronet  watching  you  both  with  a  face  on  him 
like  death  and  hell  following  after.  But  I  saw,  and,  if 
I  mistake  not,  unless  you  look  out,  you  will  not  only  get 
into  a  jolly  mess  yourself,  but  what  may  weigh  with 
you  more,  you  will  get  that  sweet  little  Hester  into 
trouble." 

Carus  tried  a  counter. 

"And  how  about  Vic?  What  will  your  father  say 
to  the  shameless  way  you  have  been  conducting  your- 
self with  that  young  lady  all  the  evening  ?  " 

"No  good,  Carus,"  said  Kipford,  lighting  a  cigar, 
264 


THE     WORM     TURNS 

"it  isn't  youi'  case  at  all,  mv  boy.  First,  Dad  wasn't 
there  to  see.  Secondly,  except  for  the  Oxford  business, 
I  should  not  have  cared  a  domino  if  he  had.  Thirdly, 
they  are  all  in  such  a  hurrv  for  me  to  niarrv,  that  I  am 
pretty  well  sure  they  will  give  me  my  head  in  the 
matter.  Vou  see  I  don't  need  to  go  in  for  dollars 
as  vou  do,  Carus.  Fourthly,  and  lastly,  my  dear 
friend,  listen  to  the  words  of  wisdom  from  the  lips 
of  the  aged.  Vic  is  a  jolly  girl,  a  good  fellow,  and 
does  not  care  a  rap  whether  she  ever  sees  me  again 
or  not.  Now  if  that  little  Hester  of  yours  were  to 
fall  in  love,  she  would  put  her  last  copper  on  the 
board.  Amen.  Now  I  '11  take  up  the  collection,  if 
you  please  !  " 

Carus  smoked  furiously,  but  did  not  reply. 

Kipford  threw  himself  on  a  lounge  and  elevated  his 
feet  over  the  back  of  a  contiguous  chair. 

"It  sounds  jolly  cheek,  me  ragging  you  about  a  cirl 
—  you  can  tell  me  to  depart  to  the  shades  of  the 
unsainted  dead,  or  you  can  jolly  well  kick  me  down  my 
ancestral  stairs.  But  unless  you  mean  —  well,  standing 
up  to  the  whole  wolf's  pack,  do,  like  a  good  fellow, 
leave  that   little  girl  alone  !  " 

Carus  threw  his  scarce-lighted  cigar  in  the  fire. 

"  My  wig,"  cried  Kipford,  starting  and  rescuing  it, 
"  you  are  in  a  bad  way.  That  's  one  of  the  governor's 
best  regalias!  They  stand  him  in  about  ten  bob 
apiece.  Jolly  good  thing  he  did  n't  see  you  do  that,  my 
fine  young  man  !  " 

"  Look  here.  Kip,"  said  Carus  Darroch,  turning  upon 
his  ex-fag,  "you  know  me  pretty  well  —  I  do  mean  to 
stand  up  to  the  pack.  My  father  and  my  grandfather 
have  played  the  deuce  with  the  property  for  their  own 
pleasure.      I  don't  see  why  1   should  sacrifice  myself  to 

265 


THE     WORM     TURNS 

it.  If  I  can  make  that  little  girl  love  me  for  myself,  I 
am  going  to  do  it.  And  if  I  can  make  her  love  me, 
I  am  going  to  marry  her  in  spite  of  fifty  fathers  and  all 
the  apothecaries  in  creation  !  " 

Kipford  threvv^  himself  out  of  his  lounge  with  a  bound. 
He  extended  a  hand  across  the  little  old-fashioned  knife- 
box  which  held  the  decanters. 

"  Shake  !  "  he  cried,  cheerily,  "  I  'm  wid  yez,  me  boy  ! 
Count  your  Waffles  in  !  " 

After  this  there  was  a  long  silence,  and  Kipford 
arranged  himself  to  listen  at  his  ease  till  far  into  the 
night  when  Carus  at  last  began  to  talk  on  and  on 
about  little  Hester  Stirling.  First  he  told  of  the  night 
in  the  wood  when  he  had  carried  her  home  to  her 
grandmother.  Then  he  narrated  at  inordinate  length 
everything  that  had  occurred  since,  till  Kipford  began 
to  nod  and  wake  up  again  with  a  jerk  (as  it  seemed, 
after  the  interval  of  many  years)  to  hear  the  voice  of 
his  friend  still  proclaiming,  as  though  it  were  a  newly- 
discovered  truth,  that  "  In  all  the  world  there  never 
was  a  girl  fit  to  compare  with  her  !  " 

At  which,  finding  himself  directly  appealed  to,  Kip- 
ford nodded  for  the  fiftieth  time  and  relapsed  into 
unconsciousness. 

Meanwhile,  up  in  her  Grace's  boudoir,  Hester  was 
back  in  the  pink  dressing-gown  and  assisting  the  weary 
Neale  to  prepare  the  old  lady  for  bed  —  in  so  far  as  that 
energetic  dame  would  permit  of  any  interference  with 
her  toilet. 

The  Duchess  had  been  making  a  proposal  to  Hester 
which  set  that  young  woman's  eyes  fairly  aflame  anew. 
This  was  no  less  than  that  she  should  accompany  her 
Grace  to  Homburg  as  her  companion,  and  this  without 

266 


7^  H  E     WORM     TURNS 

waiting  a  day  longer.  In  fact,  thcv  must  start  the 
following  morning. 

It  was  a  hard  task  for  Hester  to  refuse.  But  she 
felt  that  she  could  not  thus  run  away  from  those  who, 
if  she  owed  them  little  kindness,  had  at  least  given  her 
both  a  home  and  an  education  during  three  years. 
She  could  not  go  away  without  consulting  Revvie  and 
Megsy.  Also,  and  a  flush  came  upon  her  cheek  as  she 
confessed  it  to  herself,  she  did  not  really  want  to  leave 
London  just  then.  It  was  foolish,  of  course.  He  could 
never  be  anything  to  her,  but  during  the  last  dance  he 
had  asked  her  to  be  his  friend.  And  in  fact  she  did 
not  want  to  go  to  Homburg  quite  so  much  as  she 
had  thought  when  first  her  friend  mentioned  the  project. 

Her  Grace  of  Niddisdale  sighed. 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  am  a  selfish  old  woman,"  she 
said,  "  and  your  impulse  to  stay  is  right  and  creditable. 
But  it  does  not  seem  to  me  that  you  owe  these  people  a 
pcnnv-piece.  They  have  made  a  nursery-governess  of 
vou,  neither  more  nor  less,  and  so  saved  themselves 
the  trouble  of  looking  after  their  children.  That  is 
how  the  matter  strikes  me.  But  never  mind  —  you  can 
write  me  if  you  change  vour  mind,  my  dear.  And  now 
off^  with  you  to  bed  !  I  am  not  so  young  as  you,  and  if 
I  am  to  cross  to-morrow,  I  must  get  some  sleep  before 
starting  out  to  catch  the  mid-day  mail." 


267 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

THE    TWO    CAST-IRON    MEN 

IT  was  on  the  stroke  of  noon  when  Hester  rang  the 
bell  of  the  house  in  Empress  Gate.  She  had  seen 
the  Duchess  start  for  Dover,  and  had  gone  straight 
home  from  Charing  Cross.  Timson  opened  to  her  and 
stepped  back  instantly. 

"  Good  morning,  Timson  !  "  said  Hester,  brightly, 
and  tripped  into  the  hall  with  her  usual  dainty  swift- 
ness, removing  her  gloves  as  she  did  so.  Very  care- 
fully Timson  closed  the  great  door  behind  her,  and 
then  with  the  step  of  an  avenger  of  blood  he  preceded 
the  girl  to  the  little  back  room  still  called  Sir  Sylvanus's 
study.  It  was  mostly  sacred  to  the  vagaries  of  sub- 
committees from  the  philanthropical  general  meetings 
held  in  the  great  drawing-room.  Hester's  heart  was 
beating  quickly,  but  she  had  no  premonition  of  any 
particular  trouble  in  store  for  her. 

Timson  opened  the  door  and  she  found  herself  con- 
fronted by  her  uncle  and  two  men  clad  in  grey,  with 
large,  clean-shaven  upper  lips,  and  with  a  general  sense 
of  cast-iron  about  them.  These  three  were  standing 
about  the  table  in  constrained  attitudes,  and  in  an  arm- 
chair by  the  fire  her  aunt  was  rocking  herself  to  and  fro 
with  a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

Hester  looked  about  her  bewildered.  She  knew  well 
that  for  the  happiness  of  the  past  twenty-four  hours  she 
must  pay  by  enduring  the  wrath  of  the  Blue  Drawing- 
room,  and   possibly  the  coldness  of  her  aunt.      But  that 

268 


THE     TWO     CAST-IRON     MEN 

there  could  be  anything  worse  than  that  in  store  for  her, 
she  did  not  dream. 

"  Good  morning,  uncle,"  she  said,  brightly  ;  "  I  beg 
your  pardon.  I  did  not  know  \ou  were  here  with  any 
one.      Timson  showed   me  in   by   mistake." 

Sir  Svlvanus  did  not  answer  directly.  He  was  hold- 
ing his  head  a  little  more  erect  than  usual.  It  was,  in 
fact,  the  manner  he  cultivated  for  addressing  his  con- 
stituents. This,  as  it  were,  released  another  fold  of 
chin,  and  was  accompanied  by  that  haughty  throwing 
forward  of  the  left  knee  which  one  sees  in  political 
statues,  in  company  with  a  togaesque  frock-coat  and  a 
roll  of  papers  held  in  the  left  hand.  This  was,  in  fact, 
the  ideal  which  Sir  Svlvanus  kept  before  him. 

He  did  not  answer  Hester  directly.  He  only  indicated 
her  with  his  hand. 

"  l^his  is  the  unhappy  girl,"  he  said,  solemnly.  And 
at  the  words  a  kind  of  whimpering  sob  burst  from  Lady 
Torphichaji-Stirling,  and  she  rocked  herself  to  and  fro 
faster  than   ever. 

"  iVIy  dear,  "  said  the  baronet,  turning  suavely  round 
to  his  wife,  "this  is  a  very  painful  matter,  and  perhaps 
—  perhaps  it  would  be  better  if  you  did  not  mix  yourself 
up  in  it.      Had   you   not   better  retire  for  a  time  to  your 


own  room 


"  Yes,  Sylvanus,  certainly,  if  you  think  so,"  said  this 
model  wife. 

"  What  is  it,  aunt  ?  "  cried  Hester,  now  thoroughly 
bewildered,  "why   are  you   crying?" 

And  in  the  pity  of  her  heart  she  would  have  accom- 
panied the  lady  as  she  went  out,  hut  her  aunt  snatched 
awav  her  arm,  and  caught  up  her  skirt  with  a  gesture 
which   said   as   plain    as    print,  "  Avaunt,   toad  ! 

Even  then  Hester  would  have  followed  Lady  Tor- 
269 


THE     TWO     CAS  T-I  RON     MEN 

phichan-Stirling  from  the  room,  but  with  the  most 
noiseless  of  footsteps  and  quite  unobtrusively,  one  of 
the  cast-iron  men  in  grey  moved  to  open  the  door  for 
the  lady  of  the  house,  and,  as  if  it  had  been  accidentally, 
he  interposed  his  body  between  Hester  and  the  last 
trundling  rustle  of  her  relative's  silken  train. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this?"  asked  Hester, 
turning  to  her  uncle.  Sir  Sylvanus  still  maintained  his 
attitude  of  the  incorruptible  tribune. 

"  It  means,"  he  said,  forensically,  "  that  you,  Hester 
Stirling,  are  accused  of  stealing  from  a  cabinet  in  this 
room  a  certain  gold  necklace  of  Oriental  workmanship 
with  ruby  clasp  of  the  value,  considering  the  central 
stone  alone,  of  twelve  hundred   pounds  !  " 

Hester  did  not  faint.  She  did  not  even  feel  the 
dreadfulness  of  her  position.  The  accusation  did  not 
seem  a  real  one.  Without  doubt,  all  could  be  put  right 
by  a  simple  explanation. 

"Why,"  she  said,  "do  you  mean  this  ?  " 

And  she  took  a  little  brown  leather  case  out  of  her 
pocket.  The  Duchess  had  asked  to  look  at  the  ruby 
when  Hester  took  it  off  the  night  before,  and  had  lifted 
the  case  from  her  own  dressing-table  and  given  it  to 
her  to  keep  the   necklace   in. 

Hester  opened  the  brown  morocco,  and  with  a  kind 
of  interested  indrawino-  of  the  breath  the  two  men  came 
forward  to  look.  The  elder  of  them  took  the  necklace 
in  his  hand,  and  pulling  a  little  glass  out  of  his  pocket, 
minutely  inspected  it.  He  pointed  out  something  in 
an  undertone  to  his  companion,  and  then  he  in  his  turn 
stuck  the  glass  in  his  eye. 

*'Why,"  cried  Hester,  smiling,  "you  cannot  be 
serious,  or  else  you  are  dreadfully  mistaken,  uncle.  I 
have   had   this    ever  since   I    can    remember.     My    old 

270 


THE     TWO     CAST-IRON     MEN 

nurse,  Megsy  Tipperlin,  told  me  that  my  father  had 
brought  it  from  India,  or  somewhere,  and  given  it  to 
me  'to  play  with  when  I  grew  up,'  he  said.  She  kept 
it  in  her  trunk,  however,  lest  I  should  lose  it,  and 
only  gave  it  to  me  when  I  came  to  London  three  years 
ago  !  " 

"  Will  you.  Sir  Sylvanus,  be  good  enough  to  repeat 
in  the  presence  of  this  young  person,  what  you  have 
already  told  us  ?  " 

The  elder  of  the  two  cast-iron  men  spoke  for  the 
first  time.  He  held  the  Duchess's  brown  morocco  box 
in  his  hand,  and  snapped  and  re-opened  the  catch  in 
an  absent-minded  and  mechanical  way.  Sir  Sylvanus 
cleared   his  throat. 

"  This  young  woman,  Hester  Stirling,  is  my  wife's 
niece,  the  daughter  of  a  brother  who  was  expelled  the 
house  and  disinherited  by  his  father.  Three  years  ago 
Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  and  I  received  her  into  our 
house  out  of  charity.  She  has  never  shown  herself  in 
the  least  grateful  for  anything  that  has  been  done  for 
her,  being  naturally,  so  my  wife  and  daughters  inform 
me,  of  a  spiteful,  peevish,  and  malevolent  disposition." 

Sir  Sylvanus  was  lengthening  his  periods,  but  the 
cast-iron  man  opened  the  brown  case  and  held  it  in 
plain  sight  —  like  one  who  would  say,  "Cut  the  cackle 
and  come  to  the  point."  Sir  Sylvanus  accordingly 
proceeded   more  succinctly. 

"Various  articles  have  been  missed  from  time  to 
time,  but  nothing  that  we  could  be  definitely  sure  of 
without  a  shadow  of  mistake.  However,  last  night,  at 
a  ball  given  by  the  Duchess  of  Niddisdale,  I  saw  the 
ruby  which  you  hold  in  your  hand  worn  as  an  ornament 
by  Hester  Stirling,  and  recognised  it  at  once  as  the 
missing  one  of  a   set   of  six,  all   exactly  similar,   which 


THE     TWO     CAST-IRON     MEN 

has  been  lost  ever  since  the  first  month  she  spent  in 
my  house." 

"  Had  you  no  suspicion  of  the  young  woman  before 
the  ball  ?  "  said  the  younger  of  the  two  men. 

"  Suspicion  —  yes,"  said  the  baronet,  as  if  the  iniquity 
of  mankind  saddened  his  heart,  "  but  not  enough  to  go 
upon,  and  besides  one  is  naturally  very  slow  to  harbour 
so  terrible  a  doubt  concerning  any  one  connected,  even 
remotely,  with  one's  family." 

Hester  was  about  to  speak,  but  the  man  with  the 
ruby   held   up  his  finger. 

^'  It  is  my  duty  to  warn  you,"  he  said  in  a  severe 
official  tone,  "  that  anything  you  say  will  be  used  in 
evidence  against  you.  You  may  if  you  like  answer  my 
questions.  Is  there  any  one  in  London  to  whom  you 
have  shown  this  necklace,  which  you  say  has  been  in 
your  possession  ever  since  you  can  remember  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Hester.  "  I  do  not  think  so.  Indeed,  I 
forgot  all  about  it  till  the  afternoon  of  the  ball,  just 
before  I  went  out  to  the  Duchess  of  Niddisdale's." 

"  A  very  likely  story,"  said  Sir  Sylvanus,  contemptu- 
ously, "to  keep  a  jewel  worth  twelve  hundred  pounds 
in  an  unlocked  school  chest,  and  never  either  wear  it  or 
show  it  to  any  of  her  cousins  —  or  to  Miss  Martin,  the 
resident  governess,  in  whose  company  she  has  been  all 
day  and  every  day  for  three  years  !  " 

Sir  Sylvanus  had,  of  course,  first  made  sure  of  his  facts. 

Then  the  elder  man  spoke  again. 

"Can  we  see  the  other  similar  necklaces  —  the  five 
which,  with  this  one,  make  up  the  set  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Sir  Sylvanus,  with  grave  and  sor- 
rowful urbanity.  And  forthwith  taking  a  bundle  of  keys 
out  of  his  pocket  he  selected  one  and  opened  a  little 
wallpress.      From  this  he  drew  out  a  tray.      The   men 

272 


THE     TWO     CAS  T-l  RON     M  E  N 

gave  an  involuntary  start  and  bent  down  their  heads 
eagerly.  There  lay  five  beautiful  replicas  of  Hester's 
jewel,  each  occupying  its  place  on  the  white  velvet,  while 
in  the  middle  there  was  a  vacant  place. 

"You  will  observe  that  the  numbers  run  continu- 
ously," said  Sir  Sylvanus  ;  "  at  the  bottom  of  each  in- 
dented division  of  the  case  there  is  a  little  ticket  —  65, 
66,  67,  68,  69,  70.  These  numbers  are  also  on  the 
back  of  the  setting  of  the  clasps;  it  is  67  which  is 
wanting.  Now  you  have  seen,  gentlemen,  that  I  have 
not  even  touched  the  jewel,  which  you  received  from 
the  hands  of  Hester  Stirling.  Will  you  be  good  enough 
to  examine  the  marking  on  the  back  of  the  setting  and 
see  if  you  can  discern  anything  ?  " 

The  more  important  of  the  two  men  took  out  his 
glass   again,  and   screwed   it   into   his  eye. 

"  I  see  some  faint  marks  very  delicately  done,  of  for- 
eign appearance  and  quite  unintelligible,"  he  said,  "  and 
a  little  lower  down  the  number  67  more  roughly  scratched 
in  English  figures." 

The  younger  of  the  cast-iron  men  stood  erect  and 
thrust  his  hand  into  his  overcoat  pocket.  Something 
metallic  tinkled  there.  His  senior  turned  about  quickly. 
*■'■  I  don't  think  that  will  be  necessary,  Davies,"  he 
said.  Then  he  addressed  Hester,  who  was  only  now 
beginning  to  realise   her  danger. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  1  must  ask  you  to  accompany  us," 
he  said,  kindly  enough.  "  Davies,  get  a  four-whccler. 
I  will  also  be  responsible  for  this  tray  with  its  contents, 
if  you,  sir,  will  give  mc  a  piece  of  newspaper  in  which 
to  wrap  it." 

"  Now,  miss,"  said   the  detective,  when  this  was  ac- 
complished, "  be  good  enough  to  come  along  with   me. 
Anything  you   have  to  say  you  can  say  to  the  inspector 
18  273 


THE     TWO     CAS  T-I  RON     MEN 

at  the  station  or  to  the  magistrate  in  court,  if  he  is  still 
sitting." 

Timson  and  his  companion  stood  to  attention  in  the 
hall  as  the  sad  little  procession  filed  out,  with  noses  in 
the  air,  and  a  general  appearance  of  saying,  "  We  ex- 
pected nothing  else  ever  since  the  first  day  we  set  eyes 
on  this  young  female  !  " 

Nobody  else  was  to  be  seen  anywhere,  though  a  dis- 
tant tittering  intimated  to  Hester  that  Ethel  and  Claudia 
watched  from  an  upper  landing. 

"  I  think  I  will  follow  in  a  hansom,"  said  Sir  Syl- 
vanus. 

He  did  not  relish  sitting  opposite  to  the  pale  set  face 
of  his  niece,  even  for  five  minutes.  The  senior  detective 
looked  quickly  at  him. 

"Very  well,"  he  said.  "  Davies,  accompany  Sir  Syl- 
vanus  Torphichan-Stirling  to  Ebury  Street." 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  ancient  and  battered  four- 
wheeler  and  showed  Hester  in  very  respectfully.  Then 
he  held  the  handle  while  he  directed  the  verv  deaf  old 
cabman,  who  the  night  before  had  driven  Hester  to 
Scotstarvit  House,  how  to  go  to  the  police-station.  This 
he  did  with  the  same  nonchalance  as  if  it  had  been  to 
Westminster  Abbey  or  the  nearest  music-hall. 

At  the  Ebury  Street  police-station  they  found  a  bluff 
inspector  busy  with  a  multitude  of  papers.  He  looked 
up  in  surprise  as  his  eves  fell  upon  a  pale  interesting 
face.  The  inspector  winced.  He  had  a  girl  of  his  own 
about  her  age.  Hester's  lips  were  quivering,  and  she 
clasped  and  unclasped  her  hands  piteously,  bat  so  far 
she  kept   a  brave  grip  upon  herself. 

With  a  face  which  gradually  hardened  to  the  official 
look  of  cast-iron  the  inspector  listened  while  Sir  Syl- 
vanus  reeled  off  his  well-prepared   narrative.      He  was 

274 


THE     TWO     CAS  T-I  RON     MEN 

touched  by  Hester's  face,  but  he  had  the  ingrained  re- 
spect ot'  all  officials  for  members  of  the  Lower  House, 
the  House  with  the  hands  upon  the  purse-strings.  And 
the  M.  P.  told  his  tale  well.  He  did  not  betray  the  least 
animus.  He  spoke  quietly  and  to  the  point  —  more  in 
sorrow  than  in  anger.  He  did  not  wish  to  prosecute  if 
the  tjirl  would  confess  and  restore  the  jewellery.  This 
would  doubtless  prove  a  lesson  to  her.  He  did  not  wish 
for  publicity  on  his  wife's  account.  Here,  however,  he 
received  a  sudden  backset. 

"Then  why  did  you  send  for  us  ?  "  asked  the  senior 
detective  quickly. 

"  Because,"  stammered  Svlvanus,  "  I  knew  from  the 
character  of  the  girl  that  no  milder  course  would  be  of 
any  avail.  She  would  only  deny  and  continue  to  persist 
in  her  denials,  as  she  has  done  before  in  other  matters." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  in  answer  to  this  charge, 
young   ladv  ?  "   said   the  inspector,  quietly. 

Hester  repeated  her  statement  that  she  had  possessed 
the  ruby  as  long  as  she  could  remember,  and  that  Megsy 
Tipperlin,  her  old  nurse,  could  prove  it.  She,  indeed,  had 
had  the  custody  of  it  till  within  the  last  year  or  two. 

"  The  woman  referred  to,  I  may  say,  is  a  dismissed 
servant  of  my  wife's,"  interrupted  the  baronet  ;  "she  is 
quite  untrustworthy  and  is,  not  improbably,  in  league 
with   the  girl." 

"  Do  not  interrupt,  if  you  please,"  said  the  inspector; 
"you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  adding  anything  you 
may  think   necessary   to  your  statement  afterwards." 

The  inspector  carefully  examined  the  jewels,  and 
verified  the  markings. 

"  You  deal  in  precious  stones,  sir  ?  "  he  asked, 
looking  up. 

"  I  am  largely  interested  in  them,"  said  Sylvanus, 
^75 


THE     TWO     CAST-IRON     MEN 

reddening,  "  it  is  well  known  that  I  have  been  so  for 
many  years,   in  rubies  especially." 

This  was  not  a  question  he  cared  to  be  exact  about, 
though,  for  that  matter,  he  knew  that  his  secret  was 
perfectly  safe. 

The  inspector  bit  the  end  of  his  pen  and  gazed 
meditatively  out  of  the  window. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  sighing,  "  it  is  not  a  matter  I  can 
settle.  I  am  afraid.  Miss  Stirling,  that  I  shall  have  to 
detain  you  in  the  meantime.  But  if  sufficient  security 
be  forthcoming  I  may  admit  you  to  bail.  For  this  pur- 
pose you  are  permitted  to  communicate  with  your 
friends.  Any  letters  you  may  write  will  be  forwarded 
at  once.      Riswold,  No,   5,  if  you   please  !  " 

And  so  with  appalling  suddenness  Hester  found  her- 
self alone  in  a  prison-cell,  the  best  and  airiest,  certainly, 
that  Ebury  Street  could  boast,  but  still  so  far  as  plain 
wood  and  bare  boards  were  concerned  merely  a  white- 
washed prison-cell.  She  sat  down  stunned  and  dazed, 
her  spirits  far  below  the  point  when  she  could  have 
wept  because  of  this  awful  thing  that  had  befallen  her. 
She  did  not  feel  angry  with  her  uncle.  The  horror  of 
the  fact  was  enough  to  blacken  all  else.  In  the  village 
of  St.  John  there  was  a  police  office.  It  had  certain 
barred  windows  far  round  at  the  back,  and  the  more 
daring  boys  used  to  rattle  upon  them  with  a  stick  and 
then  run  away.  Such  were  felt  to  be  already  far  down 
the  broad  road.  But  within  the  memory  of  man  no 
inhabitant  of  the  parish  had  ever  seen  the  inside  of 
one,  and  once  when  a  travelling  tinker  became  out- 
rageous in  the  abuse  of  marital  privileges  so  that  he  had 
to  be  locked  up  till  he  sobered  down,  the  whole  country- 
side talked  about  the  matter  for  a  month. 

It  was  this  inconceivable  disgrace,  and  no  fear  of  the 
276 


THE     TWO     CAS  1 -I  RON     MEN 

result,  that  struck  Hester  dumb,  so  that  when  the  police 
inspector  followed  in  a  few  minutes  to  ask  if  she  had 
finished  her  letters,  he  found  her  sitting  blankly  upon  the 
one  chair,  and  staring  at  the  writing  materials  with  which 
she  had  been  supplied  by  Riswold. 

"Have  you  not  written  to  your  friends?"  he  asked, 
shortly  enough,  but  with  a  kind  accent.  Hester  looked 
at  him  vaguely,  as  if  she  did  not  understand  the  question. 

"  My  friends  are  far  away  —  in  Scotland  !  "  she  said. 

"  Have  you  no  friends  in  London  —  the  lady  of  rank 
in  whose  house  you  stayed  last  night,  for  instance  ?  " 

*'  She  has  gone  abroad  this  morning  !  " 

"  Do  you  know  no  one  here  to  whom  you  can  appeal  ?  " 

The  idea  shot  through  Hester's  brain  — "  Carus  !  " 
He  had  helped  her  before  ;  he  would  help  her  again, 
as  he  had  done  in  the  Darroch  woods. 

"  I  know  the  Master  of  Darroch,  Lady  Niddisdale's 
grandson,"  she  said.  The  Scotch  title  of  courtesy 
sounded  strange  to  the  policeman.  But  Hester  remem- 
bered the  address  of  his  rooms,  and  sitting  down  at  the 
table  she  wrote  simply  :  — 

"Dear  Carus  : — There  is  some  dreadful  mistake. 
They  have  taken  me  to  this  place.  I  would  have  asked 
Lady  Niddisdalc  what  to  do.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me. 
They  say  I  have  stolen  the  ruby  I  wore  last  night,  which 
was  my  father's.     Please  come  to  me  as  soon  as  you  can." 

She  was  still  sitting  with  the  pen  in  her  hand  when  Carus 
entered,  a  white  and  furious  anger  in  his  heart,  which, 
after  the  manner  of  his  race  and  caste,  expressed  itself  by 
an  unusual  particularity  of  address  and  calm  of  manner. 

"  Hester,  what  is  this  ?  "  he  said,  holding  out  both  his 
hands.  She  gave  him  hers  without  a  thought,  save  that  all 
would  now  be  right,  her  eyes  shining  gratefully  up  at  him. 

277 


THE     TWO     CAST-IRON     MEN 

"  Who  has  done  this  ?  "  Carus  demanded,  and  the 
look  on  his  face  boded  ill  to  the  man  or  woman  whose 
name  he  was  to  hear. 

"  My  uncle  Sylvanus  !  "  she  said,  and  then,  becoming 
conscious  that  her  hands  were  still  in  those  of  Carus, 
she  drew  them  away  slowly.  It  seemed  not  to  matter 
at  all  that  a  policeman  stood  watching  them  curiously. 

^'  Can  you  tell  me  all  about  it  ?  "  said  Carus.  "  Sit 
down  and  take  your  time.  We  will  soon  have  you  out 
of  this  place  !  " 

He  had  ascertained  that  two  London  householders 
would  be  accepted  as  bail  in  such  a  case.  The  inspector 
had  told  him  this  on  his  way  through  the  office.  Hester 
then  related  the  story  of  her  leaving  the  Duchess  at  the 
railway  station  and  going  directly  to  Empress  Gate. 
He  nodded  his  head  as  she  proceeded,  taking  the  points 
like  a  lawyer.  "  You  have  had  it  three  years  and  have 
never  shown  it  to  any  one  in  London.  You  wore  it  at 
the  ball.  It  bears  a  running  number  with  the  rest  of 
the  set  in  the  possession  of  Sir  Sylvanus  —  that  will  be 
their  case.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  in  Scotland  a 
witness  who  can  not  only  prove  absolutely  that  the  ruby 
necklace  has  been  in  your  possession  since  childhood, 
but  that  it  was  given  to  you  in  her  presence  by  your 
own  father.     Is  not  that  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Hester,  "  Megsy  knows  that.  She  always 
kept  it  for  me.  It  was  in  the  bottom  of  her  trunk,  and 
she  used  to  let  me  look  at  it  as  a  favour  after  she  had 
dressed  me  for  church  on  Sabbath  mornings." 

"  Well,"  said  Carus,  smiling,  "  we  must  get  you  out 
of  this  place  first,  and  settle  about  the  rest  after.  I  am 
going  off  to  get  bail.  I  am  not  a  householder,  I  fear, 
but  I  know  those  who  are.     I  shall  not  be  long." 


278 


CHAPTER    XXXTV 

THE    TELEGRAM    ON    CARUS'S    TABLE 

"  /^IR,  you  are  a  fool,"  cried  Lord  Darroch,  furiously. 

^^  "  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  disgraceful 

^^^  affair.  And  I  forbid  you  to  mix  yourself  up  in 
it.  Think  of  what  will  be  said,  of  what  every  one 
will  think " 

"  I  thought  you  were  a  gentleman,  my  lord,"  said 
Carus,  his  face  turning  an  ugly  kind  of  greyish  white. 

His  father  took  a  stride  forward  as  if  to  strike  him. 

Carus  did  not  lift  his  hand  in  defence,  and  Lord 
Darroch   fell  back. 

"  If  you  throw  away  your  only  chance,"  he  cried,  "  I 
swear  that  all  you  will  inherit  from  me  will  be  an 
empty  title.  You  have  a  chance  to  marry  a  good  girl, 
a  prettv  girl,  with  such  a  dowry  as  would  make  all  your 
life  easy,  and  you  choose  to  throw  away  all  that  for  the 
sake  of  a  thief —  ah-h-h  !  " 

Li  this  futile  manner  ended  Lord  Darroch's  denun- 
ciation of  the  folly  of  youthful  quixotry.  His  son  had 
choked  off  the  rest  of  the  sentence  by  compressing  his 
father's  throat  with  both  hands  before  flinging  him 
down  on  the  sofa,  where  he  sat  long  dazed,  his  ears 
ringing  with  the  tumultuousncss  of  his  son's  departure. 
My  Lord  Darroch  went  about  for  several  days  with  a 
pain  in  the  region  of  his  Adam's  apple. 

Carus  sped  next  to  Scotstarvit  House  as  fast  as  a 
hansom  would  carry  him.  Yes,  his  (jrace  was  at  home 
—  would  sec  him. 

279 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

"  Why,  Carus,  what 's  the  matter  ?  Sit  down,  my 
boy.  What,  that  pretty  girl !  The  nostrum-vending 
scoundrel !  My  mother  has  told  me  all  about  her. 
Bail  ?  —  of  course  I  will,  dear  boy  —  unto  the  half  of 
my  kingdom.  Won't  your  father  come  along?  No  — 
hem-hem,  just  like  the  old — yes,  yes,  Carus,  my  boy, 
I  will  meet  you  at  the  station.  I  think  we  had  better 
take  James  Chetwynd  with  us  in  this,  though.  I  will 
bring  him.  Yes,  yes,  he  will  be  the  other  security.  He 
and  I  generally  hunt  together !  " 

"  Thank  you  —  a  thousand  thanks,  uncle  !  " 

"  Not  at  all,  I  assure  you,  dear  boy.  I  'm  almost 
sorry  your  friend  is  innocent.  It  will  be  too  much  plain 
sailing  for  Jim  Chetwynd." 

When  Carus  returned  to  the  Ebury  Street  office  he 
found  that  Hester  had  two  friends  already  with  her.  A 
vague  sense  of  disappointment  seized  upon  him  when 
he  found  that  these  were  Tom  and  Vic  Torphichan. 
Vic's  face  was  swollen,  and  her  eyes  red  with  crying. 
Tom  looked  as  if  he  were  about  to  fight  a  duel  and  had 
determined  to  kill  his  man. 

It  was  Vic  who  was  speaking  as  Carus  entered. 

"  I  won't  ever  go  back  —  I  told  them  so,  the  beasts 
(sob)  —  Tom  did  too.  I  have  money  of  my  own  (sob) 
and  we  will  all  live  together  —  in  a  cottage  with  roses 
(sob)  and  Devonshire  cream,  oh,  and  such  a  dear  pony 
to  ride  to  meet  on.  But  I  've  thought  of  something, 
Hester.  I  'm  going  to  swear  (sob)  that  you  showed  me 
the  ruby,  the  very  first  night  you  came  and  made  me 
promise  not  to  tell !     There  —  I  will  !  " 

Hester  was  smiling  now. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  must  not  think  of  such  a  thing,  dear 
Vic.  We  will  all  tell  the  truth,  and  they  cannot  harm 
me.     Why,  Carus,  are  you  back  already  ?  " 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

'"•  Perhaps  we  had  better  adjourn  into  the  office,"  said 
the  voice  of  Inspector  Greig,  at  this  point  ;  "  there  are 
two  gentlemen  waiting  there  —  I  presume  on  the  matter 
of  bail." 

They  all  went  out,  and  the  Duke  came  forward  and 
took  Hester's  hand,  smiling. 

"  There,  there,"  he  said,  "  don't  cry  (^Hester  had  not 
cried  at  all) ;   it  will  soon  be  all  right  !  " 

The  Duke's  voice  sounded  just  as  if  she  had  been  a 
little  girl  who  had  fallen  down  in  the  mud  and  hurt  her 
hands. 

"This  is  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Niddisdalc,  and  my 
name  is  Chetwynd  —  James  Chctwvnd,"  said  the  second 
man.  He  was  tall  and  athletic  in  figure,  and  his  whole 
appearance  betokened  the  sportsman,  the  hard  rider, 
the  keen-bitten  follower  of  big  game  —  rather  than, 
what  was  the  truth,  one  of  the  most  famous  criminal 
lawyers  of  the  day. 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Chetwynd,"  said  the  inspector,  "  I 
will  admit  the  young  lady  to  bail,  but,  as  you  will  see, 
the  figure  must  be  heavy.  The  charge  is  a  very  grave 
one.  I  fix  the  amount  at  two  securities  of  a  thousand 
pounds  apiece." 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Inspector,"  said  Chetwynd, 
promptly  •,  "  his  Grace  will  make  one,  I  will  be  the 
other!  " 

Tom  Torphichan  stood  apart,  gloomily  biting  the 
fingers  of  his  gloves.  Vic  was  still  crying  softly  and 
holding  Hester's  hand  in  hers. 

Presently  they  all  stood  outside  the  station  in  the 
gathering  dusk,  and  looked  at  each  other  with  a  kind  of 
embarrassment.  It  had  not  occurred  to  them  that  some 
place  must  be  found  for  Hester  to  remain  overnight. 
Scotstarvit   House  had   no  lady   at   the   head   of  it   since 

281 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

the  departure  of  the  Duchess.  Carus  and  Tom  were 
momentarily  without  suggestion. 

"  I  am  deucedly  sorry  my  wife  is  out  of  town,"  said 
Mr.  Chetwynd ;  "  perhaps  we  had  better  take  you  to  an 
hotel !  " 

Help  came  from  Vic. 

"  I  have  a  friend,"  she  said,  "  Madame  the  Countess 
Saucy  les  Ecouis  !  " 

Even  Mr.  James  Chetwynd  sighed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  It  is  not  far  —  in  the  Albert  Bridge  Road.  Tom 
will  take  us  !  " 

*'  Remember,  then,  we  must  be  in  the  court  by  ten 
to-morrow  morning,"  said  James  Chetwynd.  "  It  will 
almost  certainly  end  in  a  remand  —  to  allow  us  to 
procure  our  Scotch  evidence.  That  will  give  me  time 
to  look  into  this  whole  business.  It  is  either  a  mistake, 
eked  out  by  spite,  or  —  as  I  am  more  inclined  to  think 

—  a  thorough-going  black-leg  conspiracy." 

Carus  walked  south-westward  with  Vic  and  Tom. 
Vic  chatted  incessantly.  She  was  in  the  highest  spirits. 
She  had  drawn  Hester's  arm  through  her  own,  and  now 
held  her  fingers  whilst  she  stroked  and  patted  the  back 
of  her  hand.  The  two  young  men  strode  behind, 
gloomily  silent,  each  vaguely  resentful  of  the  presence 
of  the  other. 

In  this  order  they  reached  the  corner  of  the  bridge. 
The  river  lay  in  a  purple  and  russet  gloom  beneath. 

"  Now,  Tom,  you  are  to  go  straight  home,"  said  Vic, 

—  "  I  can't  let  you  come  any  further  —  so  that  you  can 
say  at  home  that  you  don't  know  where  I  am." 

"  I  can  say  that  in  any  case,"  said  Tom,  sullenly. 
"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Vic,  "  but  when  it  is  true  you 
can  say  it  with  so  much  more  elan^  you  know." 

"  No,"  said  Tom,  "  there  you  're  clean  off  the  eggs. 
282 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

It  's   always  when  I  am   telling  the  gospel  truth   that   I 
don't  get  believed." 

Hester  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 

"It  was  kind  of  you  to  come,  cousin  Tom,"  she  said, 
"  but  you  must  not  get  into  trouble  for  me.  Your 
father  has  made  a  mistake.  But  no  doubt  he  thinks  he 
is  acting  rightly." 

"Thank  you,  Hester,"  said  Tom,  "1  will  try  to 
believe  so.  If  you  want  to  know  what  I  think,  it  's  all 
the  fault  of  that  beast  Eth.      That  's  my  opinion." 

It  struck  Carus  that  there  was  not  a  great  amount  of 
family  affection  abroad  amongst  them,  and  he 
wondered  vaguely  how  my  Lord  Darroch's  throat  was 
feeling. 

"And  thank  you  a  thousand  times,  Carus,"  said 
Hester.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done  but 
for  you.      Stayed  in  prison,  I  suppose." 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  think  of  me  first,"  he  said, 
keeping  her  hand  jealously.  Vic  directed  Tom's  atten- 
tion to  a  passing  barge.      Tom  growled. 

A  quick  sob  shook  Hester  from  head  to  foot.  Tears 
flooded  the  dr\',  smarting  eyes,  making  them  large  and 
of  the  deepest  blue. 

"  Whom  else  could  I  ask  ?  "  she  whispered,  looking 
up  at  him. 

Vic  had  turned  at  the  first  sound  of  the  sob,  and 
now  she  caught  Hester  swiftly  by  the  arm  and  drew  her 
away. 

"  Hester !  "  said  Carus,  in  a  deep,  suppressed  tone. 
He  had  forgotten  about  Tom  and  Vic.  He  only  saw  his 
love  going  apart  from  him. 

"  No  more  to-night,"  said  Vic,  waving  him  off  with 
her  disengaged  hand,  but  all  the  same  smiling  at  him 
encouragingly  over  her  shoulder. 

2S3 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

The  two  young  men  stood  watching  the  girls  till 
they  disappeared  round  the  corner.  Then  Carus  turned 
to  Tom. 

"  Good  night !  "  he  said,  "  I  suppose  I  shall  see  you 
in  the  morning  ?  " 

"I  am  coming  with  you,"  said  Tom,  who  appeared 
determined  that  his  friend  should  take  no  unfair  advan- 
tage. For  strange  things  were  working  in  the  heart  of 
Tom  Torphichan.  He  had  not,  so  far  as  he  knew,  cared 
much  about  Hester  before.  But  now  the  glaring  injus- 
tice of  which  she  was  the  victim,  and  the  consciousness 
that  Carus  had  done  more  for  her  than  he  could,  had 
roused  a  tumult  in  his  brave,  brusque,  inarticulate  soul. 
For  three  years  it  had  been  "  Hester "  and  "  Tom." 
Who  was  Carus  Darroch  that  he  should  come  between 
them  ?  It  was  the  bitterest  of  Tom's  meditations  that 
he  should  only  now  have  found  out  that  he  cared  for 
Hester  Stirling.  He  had  felt  it  as  a  possibility  before, 
but  vaguely.  Furthermore,  he  had  had  a  cheerful 
sense  that  he  had  only  to  speak  in  order  to  end  the 
uncertainty. 

He  could  have  Hester  for  the  asking.  There  were 
smarter  girls  but  —  Hester  was  Hester.  There  had  been 
a  kind  of  patronage  in  his  quiet  assurance,  some  laziness 
also.  On  the  whole,  it  was  rather  good  of  him.  Hester, 
he  knew,  had  never  had  a  sweetheart.  She  was  a  nice 
little  thing,  pretty  too,  and  in  time  —  when  Tom  got 
ready,  she  should  have  her  reward. 

The  ball  and  Hester's  shining  success  changed  all 
that.  He  did  not  dance,  yet  he  never  once  left  the  ball- 
room. He  stood  in  a  corner  watching  Hester  as  she 
fluttered  around  with  flying  feet,  Madame  Celine's 
chiffons  floating  about  her  like  butterfly's  wings. 

Hester  nodded  happily  as  often  as  she  noticed  him. 
284 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

He  thought  that  her  shoes  scarcely  touched  the  ground, 
so  lightsome  they  were.  Why  were  all  dancing  men 
such  fools  ?  That  ass  with  the  hair  parted  down  the 
middle  ;  what  a  smirk  he  wore  on  his  face  !  He  would 
like  to  kick  him. 

Tom  wished  he  had  learned  to  dance.  What  an 
idiot  he  was,  to  have  had  the  chance  of  Monsieur  Saucy 
and 

Meantime  Vic  and  Hester  were  receiving  the 
welcomes  of  that  fine  old  French  gentleman,  one  of 
the  distinguished  exiles  sent  out  of  the  country  by 
Napoleon  the  Little. 

"  We  are  glad  to  see  you  ;  we  make  you  welcome, 
Madame  la  Comtesse  and  L  Allow  me  to  present 
you  —  Mees  Hestaire  Stirleeng,  Mees  Veectoria 
Torphecchan-Stirleeng  —  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Saucy 
les  Ecouis  !  " 

A  little  dark  lady,  bright-eyed  and  practical-looking, 
such  as  you  see  at  many  a  bourgeois  pay-desk  through- 
out France,  rose  smilingly  to  receive  them  like  long- 
expected  guests. 

"  We  have  come  to  cast  ourselves  on  your  mercy," 
said  Vic.  "  I  have  left  home  because  they  have  been 
cruel  to  Hester.  But,  thank  goodness,  I  am  twenty- 
one,  and  I  have  money  of  my  own  that  Aunt  Victoria 
left  me  because  I  was  called  after  her.  Thtv  can't 
touch  that  !  " 

And  sitting  down,  she  told  all  the  story  to  these 
sympathetic  French  people.  Monsieur  was  hugely 
indignant.  He  paced  the  floor.  He  sent  in  imagination 
a  dozen  '' cartels  "  to  "Sir  Torphccchan."  Meanwhile 
Madame  came  quietly  over  and  sat  between  the  girls, 
murmuring  sympathy  in  every  pause. 

285 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

"  I  will  sent  Sir  Stirleeng  my  cartel.  I  will  fight 
him.  I  will  inform  him  what  I  think  of  him,"  cried 
the  little  man,  ruffling  his  grey  crop  with  a  nervous  hand 
till  it  bristled  like  a  docked  horse's  mane.  "  Mademoi- 
selle is  an  angel.  She  dances  with  her  soul.  For  me, 
I  will  never  sully  my  hand  with  their  money  again." 

And  Hester  and  Vic  had  reason  to  believe,  from  cer- 
tain toilet  accessories  left  on  the  tiny  dressing-table, 
that  the  little  old  dancing-master  count  and  his  lady 
wife  had  given  up  their  own  chamber  to  their  guests, 
and  bestowed  themselves  elsewhere  in  the  tiny  Albert 
Bridge  house. 

For  high  courtesy  and  the  natural  consideration  which 
comes  of  gracious  nature  and  good  breeding  no  princely 
pair  in  the  world  could  have  excelled  this  extruded 
count  who  taught  dancing  and  his  countess  who  did 
her  own  housework. 

It  may  be  noted  that  it  was  Vic  who  rested  little, 
while  Hester,  weaned  with  the  strain,  slept  profoundly. 
Vic  leaned  on  her  elbow,  and  watched  Hester  in  the 
morning  light  which  filtered  in  across  the  river.  She 
was  lying  with   her  cheek  on  the  palm  of  one  hand. 

"Yes,  you  are — "  she  said,  nodding  her  head  cryp- 
tically, "and  if  I  were  a  man " 

But  curiously  enough,  Vic  did  not  finish  her  phrase 
in  either  case. 

Since  no  better  might  be,  Tom  accompanied  Carus  up 
to  his  rooms  in  Dover  Street,  and  there,  lying  on  the 
table,  the  latter  found  a  telegram.  All  the  way  back 
through  the  wide  south-western  squares  they  had  been 
saying  to  each  other,  till  it  had  become  a  common- 
place, that  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  proving 
Hester's  innocence. 

286 


THE  TELEGRAM  ON  CARUS'S  TABLE 

"  I  can't  think  what 's  got  into  the  governor,"  said 
Tom,  "  he  is  generally  not  such  a  bad  sort.  I  think 
it  must  be  that  devil  of  a  sister  of  mine  —  oh,  but  I 
forgot  !  " 

"  Go  on,"  laughed  Carus,  "  there  is  no  occasion  to 
mind  me.  I  have  done  some  very  considerable  smash- 
ing of  the  fifth  commandment  to-day  myself." 

Carus  opened  the  telegram  and  stared  at  it  blankly. 
It  came  from  Cairn  Edward,  the  furthest  point  to 
which  the  electric  wires  had  then  penetrated. 

"  tVill  come  at  once.  Margaret  took  shock  yesterday. 
Too  ill  to  be  moved.  —  Borrowman.^^ 


287 


CHAPTER   XXXV 
ON   BAIL 

THE  police  magistrate  was  a  youngish  man, 
recently  appointed,  and  above  all  things  anxious 
to  avoid  responsibility.  Also  he  was  in  a  strait 
betwixt  two.  He  was  impressed  by  the  immense 
respectability  of  the  well-known  Parliamentarian  and 
philanthropist,  who  was  Hester's  accuser,  and  also  to 
some  extent  intimidated  by  Jim  Chetwynd,  that  famous 
lawyer. 

But  the  lack  of  any  direct  evidence  in  favour  of 
Hester,  the  doubtfulness  of  the  supposition  that  a 
young  girl  could  have  had  in  her  possession  a  valuable 
ruby  all  her  life  without  knowing  its  worth,  and,  still 
more,  that  she  should  have  kept  it  three  years  in  her 
box  in  London  without  showing  it  to  any  of  her  girl 
cousins,  the  similarity  of  the  markings  and  numbers 
upon  the  jewels,  done  apparently  by  the  same  hand, 
decided  him  to  remand  the  prisoner  for  a  week,  increas- 
ing the  amount  of  bail  to  ;^4,ooo,  an  amount  which, 
with  the  concurrence  of  the  Duke,  Mr.  Chetwynd 
immediately  provided. 

There  is  no  need  to  dwell  on  the  long-drawn  pain  of 
this  time  to  Hester,  the  sordid  surroundings  of  the 
lawyer's  offices,  the  anxious  waiting  in  halls  and  courts. 
Though  Vic,  renouncing  all  her  relatives,  went  every- 
where with  her,  and  Carus  followed  her  like  her  shadow, 
though  Revvie  came  up  looking  pale  and  anxious,  in 
spite   of  all    these   things,   or   rather   because   of  them, 

288 


ON     BAIL 

Hester  suffered  intenselv.  There  was  no  hope  of  bring- 
ing Megsy.  She  was  too  ill  and  weak  to  be  moved,  let 
alone  to  give  evidence. 

iMr.  Chetwvnd  ad\ised  that  no  resistance  to  a 
committal  to  trial  be  oftered,  on  condition  that  the  bail 
be  continued.  The  magistrate  gladly  assented,  eager 
to  rid  his  own  bounds  of  so  complicated  and  extra- 
ordinary  a  case. 

The  date  was  fixed  far  enough  ahead  to  allow  of 
Megsy 's  evidence  being  taken  on  commission.  It  was, 
indeed,  taken  down  with  a  fine  directness  by  the 
procurator  fiscal  of  the  Stewartr}-,  who  made  a  special 
journey  from  Kirkcudbright  for  the  purpose,  and  its 
accuracy  was  borne  witness  to  by  a  pair  of  local  justices 
of  the  peace. 

The  progress  of  the  record  was  hindered  and  diversi- 
fied by  the  attempts  of  Megsy  to  import  her  opinion 
of  Sir  Sylvanus  and  all  the  family  of  Torphichans  unto 
the  tenth  generation  into  the  text  of  Mr.  Nigil  William- 
son's affidavit. 

*'  The  man  was  a  liar  from  the  beginning  (pit  doon 
that !),  a  fause  loon,  an  ill-conditioned  thief,  that  never 
had  a  guid  word  o'  ony  and  gat  his  siller  (aught  that 
ony  body  kens  aboot)  by  cozcnin'  auld  silly  wives  to 
leave  him   their  money   on   their  daith-bcds." 

The  fiscal  quietly  left  out  much  irrelevant  matter,  so 
that,  when  the  completed  evidence  was  read  over  to 
her,  Megsy  declared  that  it  was  the  truth,  indeed,  but 
very  far  from  being  the  whole  truth.  "  A  fushionless 
thing.  Fiscal,"  she  said,  "  what  for  did  vc  no  write  it 
doon  that  I  wadna  believe  the  craitur  if  he  cam'  in  and 
tellcd  me  that  it  was  rainin'  ?  " 

Of  a  similar  mind   also   was   Gcorgina,   Duchess  of 
Niddisdalc.       That    lady    wrote    from    (Ic-rmany    (where 
19  289 


ON     BAIL 

she  had  been  very  ill)  to  say  that  if  the  trial  could  be 
put  off  for  a  fortnight  she  would  come  home  for  it. 
"  I  have  been  thinking  over  a  great  many  things  here 
since  I  was  taken  ill  on  my  arrival  "  (she  was  writing 
to  Carus),  "  amongst  others  whether  it  might  not  be 
possible  to  show  the  apothecary  that  there  are  more 
theories  than  one  which  might  possibly  account  for 
the  similarity  of  the  markings  on  these  Indian 
jewels." 

This  somewhat  mysterious  paragraph  Carus  showed 
one  day  to  Jim  Chetwynd,  with  whom  he  rode  in  the 
park  every  morning. 

"  Whatever  is  the  old  lady  driving  at  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  thoughtfully,  "  there 
may  be  nothing  in  it,  but  at  any  rate  it 's  not  half  a  bad 
cross-examining  idea." 

"Tell  Niddisdale"  (so  the  letter  went  on)  "I  am 
very  pleased  with  him.  I  do  not  tell  him  so  often. 
And  as  for  you,  Master  Carus,  I  suppose  it  is  too  late 
to  stop  the  mischief.  You  are  in  a  pretty  hole,  young 
man.  If  you  don't  marry  the  apothecary's  daughter, 
your  father  will  disinherit  you.  If  you  do,  I  will. 
This  comes  of  disobeying  your  grandmother  !  " 

During  these  days  of  waiting  Carus  was  exceedingly 
severe  with  himself.  He  would  have  given  his  ears  to 
have  spent  the  time  with  Hester,  but  he  felt  that  she 
would  probably  like  to  be  alone.  He  went,  however, 
religiously  to  Jim  Chetwynd's  office  every  day,  where  he 
never  failed  to  see  Vic  and  Hester,  with  Tom  or  Kipford 
in  attendance.  Carus  felt  more  than  a  little  out  of 
things,  but  he  was  comforted  by  an  occasional  grateful 
glance  which  Hester  gave  him  out  of  her  dark  eyes. 

On  one  occasion,  it  happened  that  he  was  at  Chet- 
wynd's   office    when    it    became    necessary    to    obtain 

290 


ON     BAIL 

Hester's  signature.  Carus  volunteered  to  go  round  to 
the  old  Frenchman's  house  at  the  Albeit  Bridge  and 
obtain  it.  In  the  little  parlour  Carus  nearly  stumbled 
over  Kipford,  who  sat  with  his  head  thrown  back,  play- 
ing waltzes  to  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Saucy  Ics 
Ecouis. 

Carus  was  introduced  promptly  by  the  little  lady  with 
the  sloe-like  eyes  to  M.  le  Marquis  de  Keepvort. 

He  longed  to  ask  his  ex-tag  what  the  devil  he  was 
doing  there.  The  girls  were  nowhere  to  be  seen,  but 
when  Carus  propounded  his  errand,  their  hostess  offered 
to  go  in  search  of  them. 

A  moment  after,  Vic  came  dashing  in,  her  hair  about 
her  face. 

"What  do  you  want  with  Hester?  You  can't  see 
her — you  must  wait.  I  am  just  trying  on.  So  there  — 
we  will  be  back  in  a  moment.  Waffles,  have  you  wound 
that  spool  ?  Then  do  it.  Don't  waste  your  time,  if 
you  will  be  in  the  way  !  " 

All  this  without  a  moment's  halt  or  grace  for  reply. 

Carus  intimated  mildly  that  he  had  brought  a  paper 
for  signature  from  the  lawyer's  office. 

"Then  give  it  to  me  I'*  she  cried,  snatching  the 
document  from  him. 

"  But  it  is  necessary  that  it  should  be  witnessed  by 
two  persons !  "  he  protested,  feebly. 

"  Then  I  and  the  Marquise  will  witness  it  — that  will 
do,  won't  it .''  " 

"  I  daresay  it  will,"  said  Carus,  rather  crestfallen.  It 
might  indeed  satisfy  the  claims  of  law,  as  represented 
by  Chctwynd's  head  clerk.  Hut  he  had  not  come  all 
the  way  from  Lincfjlii's  Inn  to  Alhc-rt  i^ridge  to  listen 
to  Kipf(jrd  murder  "The  Beautiful  Blue  Danube." 

Vic  brought  back  the  paper  duly  signed  and  witnessed 
291 


ON     BAIL 

as    indicated    by    the    aforesaid    head    clerk's    pencilled 
tracing. 

*'  There,"  she  cried,  *'  we  are  busy.  We  cannot  ask 
you  to  stay,  and  please  be  good  enough  to  take  Waffles 
with  you.      He  is  only  in  the  way " 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  protested  that  youth,  "  I  've  done 
a  lot  of  things  for  you  all  the  morning,  Vic,  and  I  've 
nearly  finished  this  confounded  spool  —  you  are  not 
grateful  one  little  bit !  " 

''Take  him  away  and  give  him  some  bread  and 
milk,  well  boiled  —  it  is  good  for  boys  of  his  age," 
said  the  mistress  of  ceremonies,  ignoring  his  fervid 
appeals. 

"  Kippy,  get  out !  "  said  Carus,  shortly. 

And  having  been  a  fag,  and  well  trained,  Kipford  rose 
to  make  his  adieus  to  his  hostess.  Vic  beckoned  to 
Carus  mysteriously  behind  his  cousin's  back. 

She  peeped  experimentally  into  a  little  room  on  the 
right,  and  then,  opening  the  door  wider,  she  permitted 
Carus  to  see  Hester  in  a  plain  black  dress  adjusting  a 
broad  collar  of  lace  about  her  shoulders.  She  was 
looking  in  the  glass,  and  Carus  never  forgot  the  pretty 
turn  of  her  head  as  she  tried  the  fall  of  the  points  this 
way  and  that.  The  next  moment,  warned  by  some 
flash  of  reflection  in  the  little  mirror,  she  turned  and 
saw  Carus  stand  silent  in  the  doorway.  A  vivid  tinge 
of  red  overspread  her  face. 

"  Oh,  Vic  !  "  she  cried  reproachfully. 

The  door  shut  to.     The  vision  vanished. 

"There  —  all  over  for  this  time,  ladies  and  gents!" 
said  Vic,  waving  her  arm  after  the  manner  of  a  show- 
man, "  now,  wasn't  that  nice  of  me  ?  "  Kipford  came 
out  of  Madame's  parlour  and  their  vigorous  conductor 
saw  them  to  the  door. 

292 


ON     BAIL 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said  ;  "  now  mind  me,  don't  come 
back  till  you  are  sent  for,  Waffles  !  " 

'■''  Vic,  you  are  a  good  sort !  "  said  Carus,  gratefully. 

"Yes,  I  know  !  "  Vic  agreed,  smiling. 

And  as  they  turned  away,  both  Kipford  and  Carus 
felt  that  they  had  not  come  in  vain. 


293 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

THE    CASE    FOR   THE    PROSECUTION 

IT  is  not  given  to  a  mere  layman  to  describe  the 
most  commonplace  of  trials.  Hester's  was  not 
distinguished  by  any  very  sensational  incidents, 
though  the  w^itnesses  and  friends  of  the  accused  made  a 
somewhat  remarkable  show  as  they  stood  together  in  the 
Old  Court  of  Bailey  waiting  to  be  summoned  into  the 
New.  First,  there  was  his  Grace  the  Duke  of 
Niddisdale,  tall  and  bluff,  a  man  of  the  heather  and 
ot  the  woods.  He  talked  freely  to  M.  de  Saucy,  his  old 
dancing-master,  on  the  common  platform  of  ancient 
lineage  and  mutual  sympathy.  Vic  stood  beside  Carus, 
marking  her  faction  by  refusing  to  see  her  sisters  or  in 
any  way  recognise  them  as  they  passed  and  re-passed 
arm  in  arm. 

"  I  've  made  Hester  look  just  as  well  as  she  can,"  Vic 
was  confiding  to  Carus,  "  and  if  that  does  not  do  as 
much  for  her  with  twelve  intelligent  jurymen  as  the^ 
slimmest  of  Jim  Chetwynd's  tricks  —  why,  I  'm  a  Dutch- 
man, that 's  all,  and  the  country  is  going  to  the  dogs !  ' 

The  Old  Bailey  looked  grim  and  dismal  enough  that 
autumn  morning.  The  Court  which  knows  no  long 
vacation  was  in  session,  and  Hester,  standing  in  the 
dock,  did  not  for  a  long  time  dare  to  lift  her  eyes. 
She  pleaded  "  Not  Guilty,"  however,  in  a  clear  voice, 
and  the  advocate  for  the  prosecution  opened  the  case 
against  her. 

294 


THE   CASE   FOR  THE    PROSECUTION 

At  last  Hester  mustered  up  courage  to  look  for 
Revvie.  At  least  so  she  told  herself.  She  saw  him.  He 
was  smiling  placidly.  Then  she  caught  Vic's  eye.  Vic 
nodded  encouragingly.  Carus  came  next.  He  neither 
nodded  nor  smiled,  but  from  that  moment  Hester  was 
conscious  of  a  certain  definite  support,  which,  however 
things  went,  would  never  be  taken  from  her.  She  knew 
that  his  eyes  would  never  leave  her  face.  She  knew  that 
his  whole  being  was  bent  to  help  and  strengthen  her  in 
this  her  day  of  anguish  and  utmost  need.  For  these  good 
friends  she  thanked  God,  and  took  courage. 

It  was  some  time  before  she  could  look  up  at  the 
bench  on  which  a  row  of  gorgeous  figures  sat  like  gods 
on  Olympus.  In  the  centre  was  a  kind  of  throne,  and 
on  it  sprawled  rather  than  sat  a  figure  clad  in  fur  robes 
and  gorgeous  in  blue  and  gold.  A  chain  was  about  his 
neck,  and  over  his  head  a  golden  sword  was  suspended 
against  a  scarlet  hanging.  This  splendid  personage 
appeared  .to  pay  no  heed  whatever  to  the  prosecuting 
counsel.  He  held  something  in  his  hand  which  appeared 
to  be  a  large  official  document  (it  was,  in  fact.  The 
Times  of  current  date).  He  stared  at  Hester  through  a 
single  eye-glass  and  appeared  to  scrutinise  her  every 
movement.  Two  other  gentlemen  in  Court  suits 
(sheriffs  they)  sometimes  sat  down  and  sometimes  passed 
noiselessly  out.  But  nobody  seemed  to  pay  much  atten- 
tion to  the  evidence  —  except  one  man,  clad  in  red,  a 
little  stoop-shouldered  man,  with  a  keen  face,  who  sat 
unobtrusively  on  one  side  of  the  splendid  central 
figure  and  wrote  in  a  book.  He  kept  his  eyes  on  the 
speaker.  He  followed  the  witnesses,  as  if  to  catch  the 
very  words  before  they  left  their  lips.  He  turned  over 
every  statement  as  a  man  may  who  receives  doubtful 
change  for  good  silver. 

295 


THE   CASE    FOR   THE    PROSECUTION 

He  spoke  to  no  one  on  the  bench,  and  none  uttered 
a  word  to  him.  Now  and  then  the  little  red-gowned 
man  interjected  a  word,  clean  and  clear-cut,  a  query 
with  a  rasp  to  it.  Then  when  he  had  got  his  answer, 
he  would  shift  his  gaze,  quick  as  a  fencer  shifting  from 
quarte  to  tierce,  to  the  jury-box  to  see  how  it  affected 
its  occupants.  This  was  one  of  Her  Majesty's  judges 
of  the  High  Court  doing  quietly  the  whole  work  of  the 
sessions.  All  the  rest  was  but  the  lust  of  the  flesh  and 
the  pride  of  life — ex-Lord  Mayors  and  High  Sheriffs 
most  honourable,  but  of  no  more  practical  count  in  the 
administration  of  justice  than  the  flies  that  blackened  the 
ceilings  of  the  Court  of  Old  Bailey. 

As  the  case  was  being  opened,  blacker  and  blacker  on 
Hester's  soul  fell  the  darkness.  The  lawyer  who  was 
speaking  seemed  to  bind  the  terrors  about  her.  Her 
hands  shook  on  the  rail.  She  felt  that  she  must  faint. 
The  jury-box  began  to  go  round  and  round.  In  an 
instant  the  restless  eyes  of  the  little  dark  bird-like  man 
were  upon  her. 

"  A  chair  !  "  he  signalled  to  some  unseen  attendant. 
And  in  an  instant  Hester  was  sitting  down,  and  a  glass 
of  water  was  being  held  at  her  lips. 

The  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  were,  first.  Sir  Syl- 
vanus  himself,  who  spoke  under  the  influence  of  strong 
emotion  ;  Ethel,  who  had  made  her  most  attractive 
toilet ;  Claudia,  clean  and  spotless  in  white  from  top 
to  toe,  looking  so  pure  and  innocent  that  it  seemed  as 
superfluous  to  swear  her  to  tell  the  truth,  as  if  she  had 
the  wings  of  an  angel  from  heaven  folded  becomingly 
down  her  back. 

Sir  Sylvanus  felt  his  position  keenly.  He  said  so 
himself.  Only  the  utmost  sense  of  public  duty  could 
have  induced  him  to  prosecute.      It  was,  after  all,  a  first 

296 


THE   CASE    FOR  THE    PROSECUTION 

offence.  Yes,  it  was  true.  Other  things  had  been 
missed,  but  of  small  value.  No  (in  answer  to  the  bird- 
like red  judge),  none  of  these  had  been  found  in  the 
prisoner's  box.  There  was  no  doubt  that  the  jewel  be- 
longed to  his  set.  It  had  always  occupied  the  centre 
place  in  the  case  made  for  them.  He  had  missed  it 
some  months  ago,  before  the  ball,  but  long  after  Hester 
Stirling's  coming  to  London.  He  had  been  thunder- 
struck to  see  it  on  the  neck  of  the  prisoner  that  evening. 
No,  he  had  said  nothing  to  Hester  Stirling  on  that  occa- 
sion. She  was  with  her  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Niddis- 
dale,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  neither  the  time  nor  the 
place  to  create  a  disturbance.  The  judge  had  another 
question  :  "  Did  it  occur  to  you  that  it  was  a  curious 
thing  for  a  thief  to  wear  stolen  property  in  a  place  where 
it  must  be  seen  by  the  owner  ?  " 

It  had  struck  the  politician  as  strange.  But,  he 
submitted,  it  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the  prisoner's 
character,  which  was  vain  and  unstable  to  the  last 
degree.  In  fact,  it  was  obvious  from  the  first  that  she 
had  made  up  the  tale  she  meant  to  tell,  and  was  resolved 
to  stick  to  it  at  all  risks.  He  submitted  that  vanity, 
and  not  a  desire  for  gain,  was  the  motive  of  the  thctt. 
The  prisoner  had,  so  far  as  he  knew,  made  no  attempt 
to  sell  the  necklace. 

At  this  point  Jim  Chetwynd  uprose  to  cross- 
examine. 

"  Would  Sir  Sylvanus  state  the  precise  circumstances 
in  which  he  became  possessed  of  the  set  of  six  gold  neck- 
bands with  ruby  clasps  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  baronet,  promptly.  '■'■  As  is 
known  to  most  people,  I  have  all  my  life  been  much  in- 
terested in  precious  stones.  I  took  these  in  exchange 
for    some    valuable    diamonds    about    fifteen    or    sixteen 

297 


THE  CASE    FOR  THE    PROSECUTION 

years  ago,  in   a  transaction  with  the   firm  of  Metzinger 

and   Co.,  now   extinct." 

"You  possess,  of  course,  a  record  of  the  transaction.?" 
"I    have    brought    it   with    me,"   said    Sir    Sylvanus, 

promptly,  and   put   his  hand  into  his  breast  pocket. 
The  "  record  "  was  part  of  a  list  of  jewels  written  in 

a  bold   and   clerkly  hand   upon  paper  headed   Metzinger 

and  Co.,  Nieupoort  Street,  Amsterdam.     The  description 

seemed  clear  enough. 

"  Six  (6)  Burmese  collars  of  fine  goldsmith  work  two  inches 
wide,  clasped  at  the  front  with  ruby  clasps  in  Burmese  or 
South  Chinese  gold  setting  —  open.  One  pigeon's  blood  ruby 
to  each  collar  —  six  in  all,  best  colour.  Marked  in  cipher,  and 
with  late  owner's  running  number." 

*5  Thank  you,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  calmly,  "  that  is 
very  satisfactory  in  so  far  as  it  goes.  Can  you  inform  us 
exactly  what  you  gave  Metzinger  and  Co.  in  exchange?  " 

A  kind  of  angry  spasm  crossed  the  baronet's  face. 

"  I  cannot,"  he  said,  "  and  for  this  reason.  In 
diamond  dealing  of  the  highest  kind  we  do  not  give  and 
take  receipts  as  if  we  were  buying  and  selling  pounds 
of  butter  over  a  counter.  It  is  so  entirely  a  matter  for 
dealers  as  between  man  and  man — your  taste  and  skill 
against  mine,  your  knowledge  of  your  customers  against 
my  knowledge  of  the  market,  that  it  has  been  largely  my 
habit  to  dispense  with  any  such  record,  especially  in  cases 
where  no  money  has  passed  between  parties." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd ;  "  I  shall  call  the 
attention  of  the  jury  to  Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling's 
account  of  this  transaction  at  a  later  stage  of  the  pro- 
ceedings.     Thank  you,  that  is  all." 

The  baronet  descended  from  the  witness  box  with 
large  beads  of  perspiration  standing  on  his  brow.      Ethel 

208 


THE   CASE    FOR   THE    PROSECUTION 

took  his  place.  She  and  Claudia  had  not  much  to  tell. 
Thev  had  often  heard  Hester  Stirling  say  that  she  pos- 
sessed no  jewellery  of  any  kind.  They  had  repeatedly 
seen  the  six  ruby  necklaces  in  their  father's  possession. 
Thev  had  also  observed  that  their  father,  if  called  away 
while  working  among  his  jewels,  would  go  out  leaving 
the  door  of  the  safe  unlocked,  or  simply  closing  it  and 
turning  the  handle.  They  had  often  seen  Hester  Stirling 
going  into  that  room,  and  had  objected  to  her  habit  of 
doing  so.  They  saw  the  ruby  collar  on  Hester  Stirling's 
neck  on  the  night  of  the  ball,  but  did  not  recognise  it  as 
belonging  to  their  father. 

Charles  Timson  had  seen  the  young  woman  in  most 
suspicious  circumstances  coming  from  Sir  Sylvanus's 
room  on  the  pretext  of  carrying  out  a  tray,  which  it 
was  no  part  of  her  duty  to  do.  Had  often  seen  his 
master  looking  at  and  arranging  his  collection.  Hester 
Stirling  was  very  fond  of  bad  company  and  spent  hours 
unbeknown -to  his  master  and  mistress,  learning  dancing 
from  a  foreigner  calling  hisself  Mossy  Saucy,  which 
showed  what  kind  of  a  young  lady  she  was  —  this,  at 
least   in  his   'umble  opinion. 

The  judge,  who  had  been  biting  his  quill,  bade 
Timson  confine  himself  to  answering  the  questions 
put   to   him. 


299 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

THE    CASE    FOR    THE    DEFENCE 

EVIDENCE  was  then  led  for  the  defence.  His 
Grace  the  Duke  of  Niddisdale  testified  to  the 
high  character  of  the  accused,  who  was  a  per- 
sonal friend  of  his  mother's.  He  considered  it  an  im- 
possible thing  that  a  girl  should  wear  such  a  jewel  at 
a  ball,  openly,  in  the  presence  of  the  man  from  whom 
it  had  been  stolen. 

"  Thank  you,  your  Grace,"  said  Mr.  Chetwynd.  The 
counsel  for  the  prosecution  forbore  to  cross-examine. 

Carus  Darroch,  called  the  Master  of  Darroch,  testified 
that  he  had  known  Miss  Hester  Stirling  from  childhood. 
She  was  perfectly  incapable  of  any  wrong  action.  At 
this  point  the  red  judge  glanced  at  the  jury  sternly.  A 
smile  had  passed  along  the  front  row  and  been  handed 
over  to  the  back  like  an  offertory  plate  in  church.  It 
was  now  returning  to  the  foreman.  It  was  a  smile, 
however,  which   did   Hester  no  harm. 

Remembered  the  night  of  the  ball  at  his  grandmother's, 
Lady  Niddisdale's.  Saw  the  ruby  necklace  on  that  occa- 
sion. Miss  Stirling  wore  it  openly  and  seemed  perfectly 
unembarrassed.  Of  her  own  accord  she  told  him  that  it 
had  been  given  her  when  a  little  girl  by  her  father,  that 
her  nurse,  Megsy  Tipperlin,  had  kept  it  for  her  in  her 
trunk  till  she  (Miss  Stirling)  had  come  to  London,  and 
that  she  had  forgotten  all  about  it  till  that  night  when 
she  had  taken  it  with  her  to  show  to  Lady  Niddisdale. 
The  Duchess  had  made  her  wear  it,  she  said,  but  now 

300 


THE     CASE     FOR     THE     DEFENCE 

she  wished  she  had  not.      It  made  people  look  at  her  so, 
she  thought.     Witness  did  not  agree  with  her  in  this. 

Down  went  Carus,  leaving  behind  him  a  pleasant 
atmosphere  of  fresh   directness   and  youth. 

Thomas  Torphichan-Stirling,  eldest  son  of  the  prose- 
cutor, had  never  seen  any  of  the  necklaces.  He  did 
not  believe  that  his  sisters  had  either.  His  father 
never  exhibited  such  things.  Had  seen  the  ruby  in 
question  on  the  night  of  the  ball.  His  cousin,  Hester, 
wore  it  quite  openly.  Saw  his  father  looking  at  it, 
and  thought  there  would  be  a  row  next  day.  Did 
not  believe  for  a  moment  that  Hester  Stirling  had 
taken  it.  There  was  a  mistake  somewhere,  he  was 
sure. 

Victoria  Torphichan-Stirling  did  not  sec  the  ruby 
till  the  night  of  the  ball.  Did  not  believe  Hester  had 
stolen  it  —  knew  she  had  not,  in  fact.  It  was  just  all 
spite.  (Here  she  glared  at  her  sisters.)  Her  cousin 
did  not  need  to  steal  an  ornament.  She  herself  had 
offered  her  the  choice  of  a  drawerful  on  the  night  of 
the  ball.  The  Duchess  of  Niddisdale  had  given  her 
cousin  the  dress  in  which  she  appeared  on  that  occasion, 
and  would  have  lent  or  given  her  anything  she  wished 
in  the  way  of  ornament.  She  knew  very  well  what  the 
whole  thing  meant. 

"Thank  you.  Miss  Victoria,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd, 
who  was  afraid  that  in  her  zeal  this  witness  might  say 
too  much. 

Nigel  Arthur  Algernon  Rollo,  Lord  Kipford,  had  seen 
the  stone  on  the  nii^ht  of  the  ball  —  had  asked  to  be 
allowed  to  look  at  it.  iMiss  Hester  seemed  glad  to  talk 
about  the  jewel,  told  him  that  it  was  the  only  memento 
she  had  of  her  father,  who  was  lost  in  Murmah.  He  had 
been   (;ut   there   himself  last   year,   on   a  tour   round   the 

301 


THE     CASE     FOR     THE      DEFENCE 

world.  He  noticed  the  writing  on  the  back,  thought 
he  had  seen  something  like  it  —  in  fact,  so  impressed  was 
he  that  he  had  intended  to  bring  his  friend,  Mr.  Min 
Alomprau,  secretary  of  the  Burmese  Embassy,  to  call  on 
Miss  Stirling  and  see  the  jewel  for  himself.  Owing  to 
circumstances,  however,  he  had  not  been  able  to  carry 
out  this  intention.  Miss  Stirling  wore  the  stone  in  a 
perfectly  open  manner,  and  talked  of  it  willingly.  He 
thought  people  who  made  such  accusations  against  their 
own  relatives  should  be  kicked 

"That  will  do,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  hastily. 
(Not  cross-examined.) 

"  Call  Mr.  Min  Alomprau  of  the  Burmese  Embassy," 
said  Jim  Chetwynd,  quietly. 

A  small,  thick-set  man,  clad  in  semi-Chinese  fashion 
in  violet-coloured  silk,  and  wearing  a  silk  cap,  appeared, 
and  bowed  very  low  to  the  judge. 

Mr.  Min  Alomprau  declared  himself  a  Buddhist,  but 
did  not  object  to  be  sworn  upon  the  sacred  books  of 
the  Christians.  He  was  Secretary  of  the  Embassy  of 
the  King  of  Burmah.  He  knew,  of  course,  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Burmese,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Shans. 
He  had  been  ten  years  in  London. 

"Would  Mr.  Min  Alomprau  be  good  enough  to 
examine  the  ruby  collars,  and  state  what  he  thought 
about  them  ?  " 

The  witness  stated  that  the  central  ruby  was  one  of 
the  finest  colour.  It  was  a  hill,  not  a  plateau,  ruby  — 
that  is,  it  did  not  come  from  the  Mandalay  ruby  plateau, 
which  was  a  royal  monopoly.  The  other  five  (handling 
them  and  examining  with  a  lens)  were  similar.  They 
had  all  been  set  by  Chinese  goldsmiths,  probably  from 
the  Yang-tze  country,  and  had  most  likely  reached  the 
sea  by  that  river. 

302 


THE     CASE     FOR     THE      DEFENCE 

"Would  Mr.  Mill  Alomprau  examine  the  lettering 
on  the  back,  and  give  a  translation  for  the  benefit  of 
the  jury  ?  " 

The  little  Burman  in  the  violet  silk  screwed  the 
magnifying  lens  into  his  eye.  l^hcn  he  turned  the  stone 
into  a  good  light,  took  a  long  look  and  smiled. 

The  judge  craned  forward  like  a  hawk  on  the  pounce. 
The  jury  put  their  hands  to  their  ears  so  as  not  to  miss 
a  word. 

"  He  say,  '  David  Stir-Ling  own  me.  Chin  Lin  of 
Li-Kiang  set  me,  saving  much  filings.'  There  is  also 
a  number  in  the  usual  foreign  figures." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  voices.  The  little  judge 
wrote  vigorously.  The  jury  conferred  under  their 
breaths.  A'Ir.  Min  Alomprau  stood  smiling.  Only 
Jim  Chetvvynd  was  unmoved.  A  ghastly  pallor  had 
fallen  upon  Sir  Svlvanus. 

"  Will  Mr.  Min  Alomprau  similarly  examine  the 
other  five, find  translate  the  writing  upon  them  ?  " 

The  Burman  turned  the  broad  bands  over  on  their 
faces,  and  passed  his  lens  along  the  reverse  of  the 
setting.      His  smile  broadened. 

"Chin  Lin  of  Li-Kiang  he  make  great  deal  of  gold 
filings.      He  say  the  same  words  on  each." 

"  Be  good  enough  to  repeat  them  !  " 

*'  David  Stir-Ling  own  me.      Chin  Lin  of  Li-Kiang  set 
me^  saving  third  part  of  gold  filings" 
(Cross-examined.) 

*'  He  had  never  heard  of  David  Stir-Ling  before.  He 
knew  that  there  had  been  unlicensed  mines  of  rubies 
in  the  Yang-tze  mountains.  The  King  of  Mandalay 
had  once  sent  a  force  to  take  them,  killing  the  prospec- 
tors. The  writing  was  plainly  written,  not  in  Chinese 
character,  but    in    Shan,  probably    by    a    Chinaman   who 

303 


THE     CASE     FOR     THE      DEFENCE 

had  lived  long  there  —  as  he  might  write  a  private  note 
in  English  which  he  did  not  wish  people  in  his  own 
country  to  read." 

"  Why  should  a  Chinaman  do  this  ?  " 

Mr.  Min  Alomprau  smiled,  and  hinted  that  Mr.  Chin 
probably  took  other  people's  gold  filings  as  well  as  those 
belonging  to  David  Stir-Ling. 

Called  Mr.  Victor  Rose  Noble,  of  the  Oriental 
Department  of  the  British  Museum.  He  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  Shan  language.  He  examined  the 
productions.  He  read  the  inscription  in  the  same  sense 
as  his  friend  Mr.  Alomprau.  The  sense  was  quite 
clear,  but  the  apocopation  of  the  syllabification  showed 
traces  of  Chinese  influence,  tending  as  it  did  to  a  per- 
pendicular mode  of  arrangement  upon  the  setting. 

Called  M.  Lascarnet  Champollion,  Professor  at  the 
Sorbonne,  Paris.  He  agreed  with  his  distinguished 
colleague,  adding  that  the  writing  partook  more  of  the 
nature  of  "grafFti"  than  of  that  of  set  writing — being, 
in  fact,  a  memorandum  on  the  part  of  a  dishonest 
tradesman  of  the  amount  of  his  peculations. 

Then  Margaret  Tipperlin's  evidence  was  read,  as 
selected  and  edited  by  the  Fiscal  from  Kirkcudbright. 
She  remembered  the  visit  of  Mr.  David  Stirling  to  his 
mother  in  the  summer  of  i8 — .  She  had  received  him 
and  conducted  him  into  the  garden,  where  she  after- 
wards saw  him  take  the  ruby  necklace  from  a  handbag 
and  permit  his  daughter  to  play  with  it.  Afterwards,  a 
similar  bag  stood  for  a  long  time  in  the  parlour  cup- 
board in  the  house  of  Arioland.  She  had  never  seen  it 
since  the  death  of  her  mistress.  Sir  Sylvanus  and  Lady 
Torphichan  took  possession  of  the  whole  house  then. 
After  Mr.  David  Stirling's  departure,  she  had  seen 
Hester  playing  with  the   necklace,  and  finally,  finding 

304 


THE     CASE      FOR      THE      DEFENCE 

her  in  the  held  with  it,  she  had  taken  charge  of  it, 
wrapped  it  in  a  newspaper,  and  locked  it  in  her  trunk. 
There  it  remained  till  Miss  Hester  went  to  London  to  stay 
with  her  uncle.  She  had  then  given  it  to  Hester,  thinking 
that  such  an  ornament  might  be  useful  to  her  in  the  city. 

The  newspaper  in  which  it  had  been  wrapped  for 
many  years  was  produced.  It  was  The  Drumfern 
Standard^  of  date  July  15,  of  the  year  in  which  Mr. 
David  Stirling  made  his  visit  home. 

The  Reverend  Anthony  Borrowman,  minister  of  the 
parish  of  St.  John  in  Galloway,  had  never  seen  the 
rubv,  nor  vet  heard  either  Margaret  Tipperlin  or  Hester 
Stirling  speak  of  it.  Yes,  it  was  true  that  he  looked 
upon  the  latter  as  a  daughter.  He  remembered  the 
visit  of  Mr.  David  Stirling,  in  the  summer  of  18 — . 
The  late  Mrs.  Stirling  of  Arioland  was  accustomed  to 
consult  him  on  matters  of  business,  and  he  saw  her  the 
night  of  the  visit.  She  seemed  depressed,  and  said 
that  she  would  never  see  her  son's  face  again  in  this 
world.  She  also  stated  that  he  had  placed  a  great 
responsibility  upon  her  —  by  which  he  understood  her 
to  mean  the  care  of  his  child,  Hester.  The  witness  had 
brought  up  Hester  Stirling  as  his  own  daughter  from 
the  age  of  eight  years,  and  had  never  known  her  to  be 
fond  of  dress  —  though  goodness  knew  fond  enough  of 
getting  her  own  way. 

"  That  is  our  case,"  said  Mr.  Chetwynd.  "  I  do  not 
propose  to  address  the  jury.  It  is  obvious  that  we  have 
clearly  proved  how  the  jewel  came  into  the  hands  of 
Miss  Hester  Stirling,  and  the  right  she  has  to  retain  it. 
How  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  other  five  are  in  the 
hands  of  Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling,  bearing  the 
name  of  David  Stirling,  my  client's  father,  may  form 
the  subject  of  a  future  investigation." 
20  305 


THE     CASE     FOR     THE     DEFENCE 

And  h«  sat  down. 

The  counsel  for  the  prosecution  rose,  after  a  brief 
coloquy  with  his  principal.  He  did  not  mean  to  reply 
to  the  last  unwarrantable  imputation ;  it  was  indeed 
nothing  short  of  a  threat,  and  he  wished  the  jury  to 
take  note  of  that.  The  character  of  Sir  Sylvanus  was 
too  well  known  to  need  any  vindication.  He  had  shown 
himself  most  kind  and  generous  to  the  prisoner.  He 
could  have  no  motive,  save  a  love  of  abstract  justice,  in 
thus  exposing  himself  to  the  vilest  insinuations.  The 
evidence  of  the  Burmese  gentleman  and  of  the  experts 
was  inconclusive  and  incomplete.  Even  if  accepted  as 
correct,  their  translation  did  not  prove  more  than  that 
a  certain  David  Stirling  had  once  possessed  the  jewels. 
The  name  was  a  common  enough  one,  and  this  suppos- 
ititious Stirling  may  very  well  have  sold  them  to  the 
notable  firm  of  Metzinger  and  Co.,  of  Amsterdam,  from 
whom  Sir  Sylvanus  received  them.  It  had  been  clearly 
shown  that  Hester  Stirling  had,  on  more  than  one 
occasion,  been  seen  entering  a  room  where  the  stones 
were  kept,  without  any  cause  or  excuse  for  doing  so. 
On  these  occasions  the  safe  was  often  unlocked,  if  the 
prosecutor  happened  to  have  been  working  in  his 
study. 

The  evidence  of  the  old  Scotchwoman,  Tipperlin, 
was  suspect,  both  because  she  had  recently  had  a  shock 
and  was  therefore  not  in  full  possession  of  her  faculties, 
and  also  because,  having  brought  the  prisoner  up,  she 
would  naturally  think  it  her  duty  to  support  her  charge 
through  thick  and  thin.  They  had  all  heard  of  Scotch 
clannishness.  He  left  his  case  with  confidence  to  the 
good  sense  of  an  intelligent  jury  of  householders  and 
property-holders.  If  this  sort  of  thing  were  to  be 
passed  over  in  silence,  their  clerks  might  ransack   the 

306 


THE     CASE      FOR     THE      DEFENCE 

safe  for  anything  of  value  to  wear  as  a  breast-pin,  or 
their  very  maidservants  take  out  their  wives'  diamond 
rings  to  aJorn  them  in  the  park  on  Sunday  afternoons. 
In  fact,  to  find  Hester  Stirling  innocent  was  striking  at 
the  root  idea,  the  foundation  of  all  the  security  of  the 
well-to-do  in  the  enjovment  of  those  things  Providence 
and  their  own  industry  had  procured  for  them. 

And  he  sat  down. 

There  was  a  pause  while  the  judge  arranged  his 
papers  —  a  great  bated  hush  in  the  midst  of  which  he 
began  to  speak. 

"  This  is  a  case,"  he  said,  with  a  certain  incisive 
cameo-like  clearness  of  speech,  "  which  ought  never  to 
have  been  brought  before  this  court.  I  prefer  not  to 
characterise  the  conduct  of  the  man  who,  seeing  a  jewel 
resembling  certain  others  in  his  possession  on  the  neck 
of  an  orphaned  girl  and  a  ward  of  his  own,  at  a  ball 
given  by  a  lady  of  the  highest  rank,  flies  at  once  to 
the  conclusion  that  she  is  a  thief,  and  then,  having 
passed  over  the  matter  that  night,  has  her  arrested  on 
her  return  to  the  only  home  she  has  in  the  city,  taken 
to  a  station-house,  and  left  to  be  bailed  out  by  the  good 
offices  of  comparative  strangers." 

*■*■  All  over  except  the  shouting  !  "  whispered  Jim 
Chetwynd  to  the  Duke  ;  "  old  Scratch  has  got  his  claws 
full  out  —  no  great  judge  is  Old  Scratch,  but.  Lord, 
what  an   advocate  !  " 

"If  the  jury  believed  it  possible  that  this  young  lady 
had  risked  opening  a  safe,  after  entering  a  room  in 
which  she  had  no  business,  for  the  purpose  of  abstract- 
ing a  necklace  to  wear  in  the  presence  of  the  owner  of 
the  stolen  property,  undoubtedly  they  must  tiiul  the 
prisoner  guilty.  But  first  they  must  agree  to  disbelieve 
the  distinguished   Secretary  of  Embassy  who  had  given 

307 


THE     CASE      FOR     THE     DEFENCE 

evidence,  before  them,  also  the  two  notable  experts  in 
Oriental  languages.  They  must  reject  the  evidence, 
clear  and  untraversed,  of  Margaret  Tipperlin  and  the 
minister  of  the  parish  where  Hester  Stirling  formerly 
lived,  as  to  the  time  and  place  at  which  the  young 
lady  came  into  possession  of  the  stone.  On  the  one 
side,  therefore  (that  of  the  defence),  there  were  clear 
facts  not  seriously  impugned.  On  the  other,  only 
malice  and  insinuation.  The  jury  were  perfectly  free 
to  choose  between  these  alternatives.  If,  however,  they 
decided  against  the  obvious  weight  of  evidence,  he  would 
know  what  course  to  take." 

The  bird-Hke  head  nodded  solemnly  twice  at  the 
twelve  attentive  jurymen,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  If  you 
dare !  " 

The  twelve  heads  bent  together.  The  foreman 
seemed  to  run  along  the  double  row  with  a  question. 

One  head  after  another  nodded  assent. 

Then,  rising  suddenly,  the  foreman  turned  sharp  on 
his  heel,  and  stood  waiting  for  Mr.  Justice  Scratchard. 

"  Are  you  agreed  upon  your  verdict  ?  " 

"  My  Lord,  we  are  !  " 

"  Do  you  find  the  prisoner  guilty  or  not  guilty  ?  " 

"  Not  guilty,  my  Lord  !  " 

The  applause  broke  out  irrepressible,  overwhelming. 

Mr.  Justice  Scratchard  rose,  looking  about  him  fiercely 
the  while. 

"  Silence  in  court,  there,  or  I  shall  have  it  cleared  !  " 

Then  he  turned  to  the  prisoner  in  the  dock. 

"  Hester  Stirling,  you  have  been  the  victim  of  a  great 
wrong.  You  leave  this  court  without  a  stain  upon 
your  character.  Your  lawyer  will  advise  you  as  to  any 
further  steps  which,  in  his  opinion,  may  be  necessary 
to  safeguard  your  interests." 

308 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII 

THE    TONGUE    CAN    NO    MAN    TAME 

SILENCE  filled  the  Glen  of  Kells.  Silence  was  in 
the  deep  defile  of  the  Darroch  Glen.  The  little 
white  manse  of  St.  John  glimmered  beneath  the 
stars  amid  the  trees  that  overtopped  it  with  their 
umbrellas  of  inky  shade.  Hester  stood  at  the  door 
looking  down  at  the  water  slipping  past  beneath.  She 
could  just  discern  the  grey  band,  flung,  as  it  were, 
carelessly  athwart  the  water-meadows  like  a  sash  of 
pearl-coloured  silk  which  some  one  had  flung  off"  in 
haste. 

During  these  days  it  was  a  heavy  little  heart  that 
Hester  cartied  in  her  bosom,  and  the  eyes  that  had  been 
dry  in  the  time  of  her  sore  trouble,  were  often  enough 
wet  now  when  there  was  none  to  see  save  God  and  the 
stars. 

Hester  had  been  four  weeks  at  home  with  Revvie 
and  Megsy  in  the  manse  of  St.  John.  Yet  some- 
how the  old  happiness  seemed  gone  for  ever.  The 
new  had  not  yet  come.  She  thought  kindly,  how- 
ever, of  all  the  friends  she  had  left  behind  her  in 
London. 

'■'•  1  will  never  see  them  any  more,"  she  said,  sadly, 
to  herself.  "  I  have  come  back  to  hide  my  head,  and 
now  I  make  even  Revvie  and  iVIegsv  to  be  ashamed. 
What  shall  I  do—  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  ' 

Yet  what  joy  there  had  been  in  the  manse  when 
first  the  lost  one   returned,  a  fairer  flower  than  had  ever 

3"9 


THE  TONGUE  CAN  NO  MAN  TAME 

been  seen  within  its  walls  !  How  Revvie  could  scarcely 
let  her  out  of  his  sight,  and  how  Megsy,  still  weak  from 
her  illness,  would  creep  along  and  open  the  door  of  the 
little  parlour,  which  was  Hester's,  just  to  be  sure  that  she 
was  still  there.  It  had  all  seemed  so  sweetly  restful, 
and  the  folk  at  the  kirk  door  that  first  Sabbath  —  they 
were  more  than  kind.  So  Hester  rejoiced  with  a  great 
joy  that  she  had  won  home  again  to  simple  love  among 
simple  folk. 

Her  heart  was  indeed  a  little  sore  about  Carus.  He 
had  been  so  good  and  so  tender  in  the  day  of  trouble, 
and  yet  somehow  after  the  trial  and  while  they  were 
still  in  London,  he  had  seemed  cold  and  constrained. 
They  were  staying,  Revvie  and  she,  at  Saunders 
McDougal's  Hotel,  in  Portland  Street,  off  the  Strand,  a 
hostel  much  tasted  by  the  ministers  of  the  kirk  who 
were  compelled  to  adventure  southward  into  the  stran- 
gers' land.  Revvie  had  taken  up  his  quarters  there, 
and  thither  Hester  had  accompanied  him  the  night 
after  her  triumphant  acquittal.  They  stayed  a  week 
in  London  before  returning  to  the  manse  in  the 
the  vale  of  Darroch.  Each  day  Revvie  went  out  in 
search  of  second-hand  bookshops,  finding  them,  how- 
ever, as  he  patriotically  declared,  a  "  poor  and  beg- 
garly lot,"  compared  with  those  of  Edinburgh,  where 
between  Lothian  Street  and  the  Mound  you  may 
acquire  for  a  modest  figure  all  the  literature  of  the 
world. 

Each  eve  Anthony  Borrowman  returned,  bringing 
his  sheaves  with  him.  Grimy  with  dust,  ring-streaked 
and  spotted  with  mildew  and  worm-holes  they  were. 
Each  treasure,  however,  was  more  precious  than  the 
last,  for  Revvie  hardly  liked  to  possess  a  book  that  was 
not  as  he  said    "  fattened   with  the    crumbs  of  time." 

310 


THE   TONGUE    CAN    NO    MAN    TAME 

There  was,  for  instance,  "  Boston's  Autobiography," 
"wherein,  sir,  is  the  young  green  Paradise  of  a 
faithful  soul  faithfully  portrayed,"  as  he  would  say 
sententiously. 

"And  all  for  sixpence  —  and  six  shillings  would  have 
been  asked  for  the  same  in  the  South  Brig  any  lawful 
day  !  " 

He  obtained,  in  addition,  Dugdale's  Monasticon,  the 
Reliquiae  Baxterianx,  Baillie's  Letters,  Fountainhall's 
Decisions,  the  Presbyterian  Eloquence  —  all  for  a  few 
pieces  of  silver. 

"  This  is  fair  robbery,"  said  Hester  to  him  one 
evening,  humouring  him. 

"  Nay,"  answered  the  minister,  "  only  honestly 
spoiling  the  Egyptians  of  their  unappreciated  fleshpots. 
But,  after  all,  of  what  account  are  such  fine  marrowy 
books  to  those  who  all  day  run  hither  and  thither  and 
take  no   rest  day  or  night." 

For  the  pour  of  midnight  traffic  along  the  Strand  and 
over  the  Thames  bridges  used  to  fetch  Revvie  out  of 
his  bed  that  he  might  see  it. 

"The  souls  of  men,  blown  with  a  mighty  wind 
to  and  fro,  from  the  four  airts  of  the  heavens,"  thus 
he  described  it  in  a  sermon  preached  after  his  return. 

During  these  early  days  Hester  had  been  happy. 
Empress  Gate  was  an  ill  dream,  the  trial  a  nightmare, 
even  the  ball  far  awav  in  some  other  sphere  of  existence, 
she  herself  infinitely  older  and  wiser.  She  saw  Carus 
every  day,  and  walked  with  him  and  Vic  in  the  park. 
To  them  upon  occasions  were  joined  Kiptord  and 
Tom. 

Still  it  seemed  that  Carus  was  always  silent  and 
constrained,  and  more  than  once  it  was  on  the  tip  ot 
Hester's  tcjiigue  io  ask  if  he  were  angry  with   her.      But 


THE  TONGUE  CAN  NO  MAN  TAME 

when  she  would  have  spoken,  the  words  would  not 
come,  and  the  time  went  by.  At  last  they  must  say 
farewell.  Vic  had  already  gone  to  Homburg  to  her 
Grace,  since  Hester  could  not  leave  Revvie,  and 
yearned  to  be  at  the  manse  to  comfort  Megsy. 
Niddisdale  having  done  his  part  was  seen  no  more  — 
modest,  unaccountable  man  that  he  was.  But  the  three 
young  men,  Tom,  Kipford,  and  Carus,  were  there  to 
say  good-bye,  waiting  Hester's  cab  under  the  great 
gloomy  arch,  and  then  at  the  last  moment  to  them 
Jim  Chetwynd  added  himself,  cool  and  casual  as  ever, 
dropping  his  words  like  precious  liqueurs  and  sweetening 
them  with  a  rare-coming  smile  as  often  as  he  spoke  to 
Hester. 

It  chanced  that  Chetwynd  drew  Tom's  arm  through 
his  at  the  moment  when  the  minister  and  Kipford  were 
deep  in  converse  as  to  the  last  production  of  the 
Historicity  Club,  of  which,  needless  to  say,  Kipford 
had  just  heard  for  the  first  time.  Hester  and  Carus 
found  themselves  momentarily  alone.  A  strange  con- 
straint seized  upon  both  of  them.  Hester  almost  wished 
that  she  could  run  to  Revvie  and  plunge  into  the  midst 
of  his  conversation  with  Kipford. 

"  I  wonder  when  I  shall  see  you  again,"  Carus 
said  at  last,  not  looking  at  her,  but  away  down  the 
platform  to  the  place  where  Tom  stood  viciously 
digging  the  ferrule  of  his  cane  into  a  crack  in  the 
flagstones  while   Chetwynd  talked. 

"  I  suppose  when  you  come  to  Darroch,"  she  said ; 
"  that  is,  if  you  have  not  forgotten  us  by  that  time." 

"  I  shall  not  come  any  more  to  Darroch,"  he  said, 
simply. 

Hester  looked  up  in  surprise. 

^'  Why  ?  "  she  asked. 

312 


THE  TONGUE  CAN  NO  MAN  TAME 

"  I  have  quarrelled  with  my  father,"  he  said. 

A  slow  blush  mounted  upward  to  the  girl's  cheek  as 
Hester's  heart  quickened  its  beating. 

"  I  hope  he  is  not  angrv  with  you  because  of  what 
vou  have  done  for  me,"  she  murmured.  "  If  that  be 
so,  I  shall  be  sorry  that  I  let  you  do  anything.  I  shall 
not  forgive  myself  that  I  thought  of  you  in  prison  — 
wrote  to  vou  !  " 

"No,"  Carus  broke  out  with  a  kind  of  gulp,  "you 
must  not  sav  that  —  anything  but  that  — that  is  all  that 
makes  my  life  woith  living !  " 

But  Tom  had  broken  away  from  Chetwynd  and  now 
burst  in  upon  them  before  another  word  could  be  said. 

"  I  say,  Hester,"  he  said,  "  I  brought  you  these ;  I 
hope  you  will   like  them  !  " 

He  had  just  taken  a  basket  of  beautiful  fruit  from  a 
boy,  and  dismissed  him.  "  You  will  need  them  on  the 
journey,  you  know." 

And  so* their  chance  passed,  and  the  words  on  the 
young   man's   lips   remained   unspoken. 

And  so  it  was  that  this  night  by  the  door  of  the 
manse,  alone  in  the  silence  of  the  wide  valley,  Hester 
wondered  what  Carus  would  have  said  to  her  if  it  had 
not  been  for  Tom's  basket  of  fruit. 

Now,  greater  than  all  else  save  religion  (and  more 
immediate  than  that)  is  the  power  of  the  influence 
territorial   in   Galloway   and   the   Glen   of  Kells. 

If  a  man  have  in  his  possession  land  which  his  father 
had  before  him  he  may  be  a  sot  or  a  bully,  a  cypher  or 
a  scamp,  yet  hold  in  his  hands  the  power  of  public 
opinion.  He  commands  a  well-drilled  little  army  ot 
gamekeepers,  gardeners,  watchers  of  fishing,  subser- 
vient  shopkeepers,   farmers    a    little    behind    with    their 


THE  TONGUE  CAN  NO  MAN  TAME 

rent,  and  local  tradesmen,  all  with  a  keen  sense  of  the 
side  on  which  their  bread  is  buttered. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  after  a  week  or  two,  mys- 
terious whispers  began  to  pervade  the  glen.  These 
concerned  Hester  Stirling.  She  had  been  tried  in 
London  for  stealing  (so  the  whispers  said) ;  she  had 
barely  escaped  penal  servitude.  She  had  been  im- 
prisoned. She  had  been  turned  to  the  door  by  her  own 
uncle  and  aunt.  Lord  Darroch  had  quarrelled  with 
his  son  because  of  her.  It  was  easy  to  be  seen  that 
her  modest  airs  were  only  a  sham. 

Through  all  the  countryside  the  murmur  ran,  fanned 
judiciously  by  the  presence  of  Ethel  and  Claudia  at 
the  new  house  of  Arioland.  Their  custom  was  a 
first  consideration  alike  to  the  village  shopkeepers 
and  the  more  distant  town  tradesmen.  And  so  it 
came  about  that  good  wives  at  whose  firesides  Hester 
had  been  accustomed  to  sit  and  drink  tea,  now 
hurried  indoors  at  the  first  sight  of  her.  At  church 
she  found  herself  curiously  isolated  as  she  walked 
homeward.  For  Megsy  was  not  yet  strong  enough  to 
accompany  her,  and  Mr.  Borrowman  was  busy  with 
session  business. 

It  was  this  which  saddened  the  girl. 

"  I  am  hurting  Revvie  and  Megsy,"  she  said.  "  I 
must  go  away  again." 

Yet  where  to  go  or  what  to  do  did  not  at  once 
appear.  She  wished  she  had  taken  the  Duchess  at  her 
word,  but  now  Vic  was  with  her,  and  she  had  no  need 
of  another  companion.  She  sighed  and  went  indoors 
without  coming  to  any   conclusion. 


314 


ft^ 


M- 

^ 


r.<  i-'f^.  »<^^v 


"Ar    ClILKCU    Mil.    li'l.NK    lll.K.-^M.l'    CLKIULbl.V     ISUl.ATKl)." 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 
GRUMPHY   GUDDLESTANE 

ON  the  morrow  she  took  her  book  and  went  out, 
meaning  to  sit  awhile  and  read  in  the  warm 
sunshine  of  the  late  autumn,  in  one  of  her 
favourite  haunts  —  the  ivv-clad  porch  of  the  ruined 
Castle  of  the  first  lords  of  Darroch.  The  new  building 
—  which  had  been  new,  that  is,  some  three  hundred 
years  before  —  was  situated  on  a  lofty  eminence  over- 
looking the  loch.  Higher  up,  on  wide,  pleasant  holms, 
stood  the  "  Auld  Castle,"  now  a  picturesque  ruin,  mostly 
ivy-clad  and  crumbling,  but  with  staircases  and  garrets 
still  fairly  intact,  and  with  the  arms  of  the  Darrochs  of 
Darroch 'above  the  door.  A  little  lower  were  brown 
pools  where  the  salmon  lurked  head  to  the  stream  during 
the  hot  summer  days,  and  all  about  spread  the  Darroch 
Woods,  bird-haunted,  fragrant,  fanned  and  cooled  by  the 
breezes  which  blew  up  and  down  the  strath. 

Thither,  with  a  heart  heavy  within  her,  Hester  took 
her  way.  The  leaves,  getting  dry  a  little,  rustled  under 
foot.  The  air  coursed  keen  from  the  North,  and  the 
power  seemed  to  have  gone  out  of  the  sunshine.  But 
Hester  was  glad  to  be  alone.  A  sense  of  the  peace 
which  God  has  poured  out  on  the  world  began  to  seek 
inward  to  her  soul.  The  grey  turrets  of  the  castle 
towered  aliove  her,  stately  and  reverend.  Under  this 
archway  Darrochs  of  (jld,  knightly  and  gallant  as  —  she 
did  not  continue  the  comparison  —  had  ridden  with 
their   squires  at   their  beck.      Across  that  shining  water 

315 


GRUMPHY     GUDDLESTANE 

they  swam  their  horses  when  they  went  forth  to  the 
King's  wars.  She  thought  of  Carus  and  smiled.  He 
would  have  looked  as  gallant  as  any  of  them.  After  all, 
it  was  a  good  world  to  be  alive  in — if  men  and  women 
were  unjust  and  unkind,  at  least  she  could  escape  so 
swiftly  into  the  solitude. 

But  Hester  had  reckoned  without  a  certain  "  Grum- 
phy"  Guddlestane. 

The  reek  of  a  foul  pipe  stole  upon  Hester's  sensitive 
nostrils  as  she  sat  reading  under  the  ivy.  She  looked 
up,  and  there  before  her  stood  my  Lord  Darroch's  new 
gamekeeper,  a  gun  held  slouchily  under  his  arm,  a  bat- 
tered hard  hat  too  small  for  his  flattish  porcine  face, 
cocked  at  a  knowing  angle  over  a  left  eye  that  leered, 
and  his  black  "  cutty,"  turned  bowl  downwards,  pro- 
truding from  his  mouth  like  a  boar's  tusk.  Well  was 
he  named  Grumphy   Guddlestane. 

For  some  months  before  Dickson  had  been  found 
wanting.  He  had  proved  too  kind  and  complaisant  for 
my  lord.  He  had  not  been  severe  enough  with  tres- 
passers. He  had  even  been  known  to  speak  civilly  to 
visitors  to  the  glen,  wishful  to  view  the  ancient  castle 
of  the  Darrochs.  So  these  things  came  by  the  usual 
underhand  methods  to  the  ears  of  my  lord,  and  Dickson 
had  leave  to  go.  Whereupon,  to  the  little  lodge  by  the 
gate  came  "  Grumphy "  Guddlestane,  who  had  been  a 
kind  of  dog-breaker  and  stable-sweeper  on  Lord  Dar- 
roch's estates  in  the  north,  and  knew  as  much  about 
gamekeeping  as  about   Sanscrit. 

"  Grumphy  "  he  had  been  named  at  his  first  appear- 
ance at  the  Kirk  at  Clachan,  and  the  name  had  stuck  to 
him  ever  since.  Rough  by  nature,  brutal  by  training, 
foul-mouthed  by  choice,  a  coward  at  heart  and  a  bully 
always  —  such  was  Grumphy  Guddlestane.     With  men, 

316 


G  R  U  Al  PHY     CUDDLES  T^  A  NE 

especially  if  they  had  money  or  drinlc  to  otier,  he  could 
be  svcophantish  enough,  but  woe  betide  the  woman 
upon  whom  he  could  vent  his  spite.  For  the  very  earth 
seemed  fouler  when  Grumphy  spoke  out  that  which 
was  in  his  heart.  And  three  times  woe  to  the  wan- 
dering bairn,  with  purple  lips  bramble-stained,  whom 
Grumphy  caught  about  the  precincts  of  his  master's 
woods. 

"What  are  you  doin'  here  —  you  have  no  business 
here.  We  want  nane  o'  your  kind  hereaboots  !  "  said 
Grumphy  without  removing  the  pipe  from  between  his 
teeth,  as  he  stood  glooming  and  glowering  at  Hester 
Stirling,  the  reek  of  his  very  presence  poisoning  the 
wholesome  air. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Hester,  rising  to  her  feet. 
"  I  did  not  know  I  was  doing  any  harm.  I  have  always 
come  here  ever  since  I  was  a  little  girl,  and  nobody  ever 
said  a  word  to  me  before." 

"  Wed,"  growled  Grumphy,  "  you  move  on  oot  o' 
this,  an'  mind,  dinna  let  me  see  ye  here  again,  that 's  a'  ! 
—  If  ever  I  set  e'en  on  ye  on  the  estate  I  '11  hae  ye  sent 
back  to  the  jail  again,  where  ye  came  frae  sae  lately. 
Oh,  I  ken  vc  brawlv,  ve  fine  madam.  Ye  are  the  lass 
that  stcaled  the  necklace  and  got  off  because  ye  could 
twine  silly  ycning  men  roond  your  finger.  Ye  will  find 
that  ye  canna  twine  me  !      Sac  oot  o'  this  wi'  yc  !  " 

Hester  did  not  answer.  She  ([uietly  gathered  up  her 
shawl  and  books,  and  with  a  suddenly  whitened  face 
took  her  way  bv  the  path  down  the  riverside. 

The  noble  victor  followed  at  her  heels,  swelling  with 
triumph. 

"Comeback  oot  o' that  amang  the  game  —  ye " 

(jrumphv  sh(nitcd  the  oaths  in  his  most  brutal  tones; 
"gang    up    by   the    stables,    or     I'll     set   the   dowgs    on 

3'7 


GRUMPHY     GUDDLESTANE 

ye.  We  dinna  want  characters  like  you  aboot  the 
place  !  " 

Grumphy  was  thoroughly  enjoying  himself  now.  He 
had  a  woman  to  bully,  and  best  of  all,  one  who  had  no 
protector  and  did  not  answer  back.  It  was  one  degree 
better  than  beating  a  dog  nearly  to  death  with  his  dog- 
whip,  which  hitherto  had  been  his  beau  /Wi?*?/ of  happiness. 
If  he  could  only  have  lashed  Hester  across  that  white 
face  of  hers,  he  would  have  been  perfectly  happy. 

Thank  God,  there  are  few  Grumphy  Guddlestanes 
within  the  bounds  of  Scotland,  but  I  have  known  one 
here  and  there,  and  these  things  are  written  to  their 
address.  I  have  many  friends  among  gamekeepers,  and 
they  are  one  and  all  open-hearted  and  manly  fellows, 
generous  and  brave.  I  have  sat  in  their  kitchens  and 
tasted  their  good  cheer.  Better  comrades  can  no  man 
have.  I  drink  to  them  health  and  happiness  and  the 
finest  seasons,  with  birds  plenty  and  strong  on  the  wing. 
Such  are  ninety-nine  out  of  the  hundred  of  the  game- 
keepers of  Scotland,  and  any  ill  report  they  may  have  is 
only  because  oftentimes  the  public,  indiscriminating  as 
usual,  lays  on  them  the  weight  of  the  boorish  brutality, 
the  callous  cruelty,  the  stupid  ignorance  of  Grumphy 
Guddlestane,  the  hundredth  man.  I  will  therefore,  once 
for  all,  write  down  Grumphy  clear  and  mark  him  with 
a  mark,  that  he  may  be  known  whenever  found,  and 
that  his  comrades  be  not  blamed   for  his  sins. 

Let  him  be  called  a  "  Grumphy  "  and  a  gamekeeper 
no  more —  for  true  gamekeeper  he  is  none. 

So  Grumphy  thoroughly  enjoyed  himself  all  the  way 
through  the  policies  to  the  high  road.  He  shouted 
after  Hester  every  foul  name  that  enters  into  the  heart 
of  such  a  man.      Blessed  are  the  innocent,  for  mostly 


GRUiMPHY     GUDDLE  STAKE 

Hester  had  not  the  least  idea  what  he  meant.  Grum- 
phy's  small  pig's  eyes  twinkled  with  happiness.  His 
purplish,  sodden,  unshaven  face,  jowled  like  a  mastiff, 
marled  with  potations  like  ill-baked  dough,  fairly  shook 
with  pleasure  at  the  pain  he  was  inflicting.  He  per- 
mitted his  slouching  ill-bred  dogs  to  growl  and  sniff 
about  Hester's  skirts  in  the  hope  that  they  would 
thoroughly  frighten  this  girl,  alone  and  unprotected, 
upon  whom  he  felt  that  he  had  his  master's  permission 
to  exercise  all  his  brutality  and  spite.  Grumphy  Gud- 
dlestane  was  not  a  brute  upon  compulsion.  He  was 
a  brute  for  pleasure.  And  it  was  a  source  of  rare  satis- 
faction to  him,  that  for  once  in  a  way  he  could  speak 
out  all  the  sullen  devildom  of  his  nature  without  fear 
of  consequences.  He  was  not  often  in  agreement  with 
public  prejudice,  and  he  made  the  most  of  his  oppor- 
tunity. Half  an  hour  afterwards,  Megsy,  going  care- 
fully about  the  manse,  with  a  staff  in  one  hand  and  the 
other  pressed  in  the  small  of  her  back,  found  Hester 
weeping   in   her  room. 

It  was  almost  exactly  one  week  later  that  the  manse 
housekeeper  found  Grumphy  Guddlestane.  It  hap- 
pened on  the  eve  of  Market  Monday,  when  the  farmers 
were  putting  their  gigs  up  at  the  Cross  Keys  for  an 
hour's  rest,  and  when  there  was  as  great  a  concourse  as 
is  ever  brought  together  in  the  little  upland  village  of 
the  Clachan  of  St.  John. 

Grumphv  stood  with  one  elbow  on  the  doorpost  and 
bughed.  He  had  been  drinking,  and  the  tongue  in  his 
mouth  was  furred  with  foulness.  Before  him  suddenly 
uprose  Megsy  Tippcrlin,  and  power  was  given  to  her. 

"  Stand  ye  there,  (jrumphy  Guddlestane,"  she  cried, 
shaking  her  stick  in  his  face  ;   "  stand  there,  ye   peetifu' 

3 '9 


GRUMPHY     GUDDLESTANE 

walstrel,  and  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Margaret  Tipperlin, 
I  will  tell  your  name  and  character  amang  a'  the  folk. 
You  that  never  faced  a  man,  stand  up  and  face  a 
woman  of  three-score  years  and  twa.  You  that 
shamed  the  innocent,  stand  up  and  I  will  make  you 
ashamed,  if  an  ounce  o'  shame  is  left  in  your  shakin' 
carcase." 

Grumphy  made  a  remark  here  in  his  usual  bullying 
style,  but  it  fell  flat. 

"  Na,  an'  I  will  no  get  oot  o'  your  road  —  ye  peetifu' 
cooard,  ye  pasty-faced,  dottel-nosed  vaigabond.  If  I 
were  a  man,  I  wad  tak'  the  whup  oot  o'  your  hand  and 
dress  ye  frae  your  cloured  hat  to  the  boots  that  ye 
hae  never  paid  for.  I  kenna  what  the  Almichty  is 
thinkin'  on  to  permit  sic  a  thing  as  ye  to  crawl  on  the 
face  o'  this  bonny  earth,  blackening  the  verra  licht  o' 
the  sun,  and  fylin'  the  clean  mools  as  ye  walk  the 
fields.  But  He  that  made  the  taed  an'  the  ask  and 
the  ether  (adder)  kens  what  for  He  made  the  like 
o'  Grumphy  Guddlestane  !  Ye  wad  break  the  heart  o' 
my  innocent  bairn,  wad  ye  —  the  only  child  o'  the  only 
son  o'  the  ancient  hoose  o'  the  Stirlin's  o'  Arioland, 
that  were  here  afore  there  was  ever  ony  Lord  Darroch 
to  uphaud  ye  in  your  wickedness  —  aye,  and  shall  be 
here  when  baith  you  an'  he  are  forgotten  aff  the  face 
o'  the  Glen  Kells,  and  when  the  wanderin'  messan 
whaulp  fyles  the  nettles  and  pushionous  paddock-stools 
abune  your  graves. 

"  Na,  an'  I  haena  dune  wi'  ye  yet,  Grumphy  Gud- 
dlestane. Keep  baud  o'  him,  lads.  Let  him  hear  this, 
Nether  Airds,  let  him  hear  the  last  word  o'  Margaret 
Tipperlin.  If  he  willna  come  to  the  kirk  to  hear  the 
word  o'  God,  a  faith fu'  sermon  he  will  never  forget 
shall  be  preached  in  his  lugs  the  day.     Rest  in  the  Glen 

320 


GRUiMPHY     GUDDLESTANE 

Kells  shall  he  get  nane  frae  this  day  onward.  Forth 
shall  he  gang  wi'  the  mark  on  him  —  like  unto  Cain. 
But  feint  a  sicht  o'  the  land  o'  Nod  shall  he  ever  see. 
For  the  ban  of  Alegsy  Tipperlin  shall  be  upon  him,  and 
on  a'  that  consort  wi'  him.  Men  shallna  drink  his 
drink  for  the  fear  o't.  Woman  shall  dwam  at  the  sicht 
o'  him,  and  the  verra  bairns  on  the  streets  and  lanes 
shall  cry  oot,  '  Hide  your  head,  Grumphy  Guddlestane.' 
Ye  could  shame  a  lassie  that  never  did  ye  ony  hairm, 
but  ye  daurna  face  a  man  wi'  his  neives  shut  a'  the  days 
o'  your  life. 

"  What,  is  he  gane,  and  left  the  collar  o'  his  coat  in 
your  hands,  Nether  Airds  ?  Whatever  has  ta'en  him 
awa'  in  sic  a  hurry  —  him  that  had  sae  muckle  to  say  to 
my  puir  bairn.  I  wasna  half  through  wi'  him.  I  hadna 
weel  stanit  to  tell  him  what  the  countryside  thocht  o' 
him.  Gin  I  had  had  ither  five  meenites  I  declare  I 
micht  hae  said  something  he  wad  hae  mindit." 

"  Ye  are  no  canny  wi'  your  tongue,  Marget,"  said 
Nether  Airds,  a  tall,  gaunt,  thoughtful-looking  man; 
"  certes,  it  is  weel  ye  didna  mairry.  For  if  ye  can  put 
a  man  that's  nae  kin  to  ye  through  the  threshin'  mill 
as  ye  hae  dune  Grumphy  the  day,  what  wad  ye  no  hae 
dune  wi'  your  ain  guidman — that  is,  in  a  mainncr  o' 
spcakin',  delivered  bound  hand  and  foot  into  your 
pooer  ?  " 

Megsy  turned  upon  him. 

"  It  wad  hae  been  tellin'  you.  Nether  Airds,  and  the 
meal  ark  in  your  kitchen,  and  the  account  ye  hae  in  the 
Cairn  Edward  Bank,  gin  ye  had  a  wife  like  Margaret 
Tipperlin  to  come  home  to.  Certes,  ye  wadna  hae 
stood  sac  lang  haudin'  up  the  doorposts  o'  the  public- 
house  at  this  time  o'  nicht !  " 

There  was  a  vacancy  where  Nether  Aiid  had  stood. 
21  321 


GRUMPHY     GUDDLESTANE 

The  doorpost  of  the  Cross  Keys  stood  there  lone  and 
deserted. 

"  Aye  and  you,  Ironmannoch,  that  stan's  nicherin' 
there  like  a  calf  lookin'  ower  a  yett  for  the  lickin's  o' 
the  parritch  pat,  it  wad  set  ye  better  to  forswear  the 
company  o'  a'  sic  dour-faced,  ill-hearted  wratches  as 
Grumphy  Guddlestane,  and  gang  hame  to  your  wife 
and  bairns  that  ye  are  no  worthy  to  creesh  the  clogs  o'. 
Guid  peety  them  !  Gin  I  win  at  ye  wi'  a  stick,  my  man, 
ye  shall  lauch  on  the  wrang  side  o'  your  face,  and  girn 
like  a  foulmart  in  a  trap.  Up,  man,  an'  ower  the  hill, 
like  Tod  Lowrie,  wi'  the  dogs  after  him  !  And  gin  ever 
I  catch  yin  o'  ye  again  consortin'  or  colloguin'  wi'  the 
like  o'  Grumphy  Guddlestane  —  weel,  I  micht  be  temptit 
to  forget  mysel'  and  say  somethings  that  ye  michtna 
like  !  " 

In  this  fashion  was  ended  the  reading  of  the  second 
lesson  from  the  epistle  general  of  Megsy,  the  daughter 
of  Tipperlin.  But  long  before  her  voice  ceased  the 
congregation  had  dispersed  from  about  the  doors  of  the 
Cross  Keys. 


322 


CHAPTER    XL 

NAOMI    TURNS    THE    TABLES    ON    RUTH 

"Tj  ^  EARIE,  dearie,  ye  canna  leave  us — ye  shallna, 
I  I  Even  as  Ruth  said  to  Naomi,  *■  Whither  thou 
*  "^  goes,'  there  u'ill  Mcgsy  gang,  and  '  where  thou 
lodgest '  she  will  lodge  —  aye,  though  we  hae  to  big  us 
a  boo'er  by  yon  burnside,  like  unto  Bessie  Bell  and 
Marv  Grey,*  an'  dootless  twa  limmers  they  war  to  do 
siccan  a  thing  !  " 

"  But,  Megsy  dear,"  answered  Hester  with  the  tear  in 
her  eve,  "  I  am  but  a  shame  and  a  speaking  against  to 
vou  and  Revvie.  What  am  I  that  I  should  stand  in 
the  wav  of  those  I  love  ?  " 

"Stan'  in  their  way,  bairnie  —  havers,  julst  havers!" 
cried  Mcgsy,  knocking  her  iron-shod  stick  on  the  floor 
to  enforce  her  words,  "what  maitters  it  that  thae  leein' 
Torphichans  —  the  foul  fiend  ride  them!  —  hae  raised 
this  sound  o'  talk.  As  there  is  a  God  in  heaven  the 
truth  will  come  to  licht,  and  the  wicked  be  turned  into 
the  111  Bit.  Hasten  the  day  —  back  the  fires  an'  heat 
the  bing  red-hot  for  Sylvanus  the  Thief — Sylvanus  the 
Liar  —  Sylvanus  the  Supplanter  I  " 

"  Oh,  Megsy,  what  dreadful  things  you  say." 

*  Note.  —  Mcgsy  was  referring  to  one  of  the  most  popular 
rhymes  in  the  Scottish  tf)ngiie  : 

Bessie  Bell  and  Mary  Grey, 

They  war  twa  bonny  lasses  ; 
They  higgit  a  hour  on  yon  burnside, 

And  they  theelcit  it  owcr  wi'  rashes. 

323 


NAOMI  TURNS  THE  TABLES  ON  RUTH 

"  Dreadfu'  things,  indeed ;  no  half  ill  eneuch,"  said 
Megsy,  scornfully,  "  after  what  they  hae  dune  to  my 
bairn.  Ye  little  ken  what  it  is  to  hae  a  guid-gaen 
tongue.  Faith,  if  Megsy  let  hersel'  say  the  thing  that 
is  in  her  heart  she  might  come  ower  a  word  or  twa  that 
she  wad  be  sorry  for.  But  the  pittin'  up  o'  a  bit 
peteetion  like  that  —  it 's  neither  here  nor  there,  in  a 
mainner  o'  speakin'." 

"  But,  Megsy,"  Hester  reverted  to  the  first  subject, 
"  I  can  see  all  this  is  hurting  Revvie.  Did  you  hear 
him  sigh  when  he  sat  down  to  take  the  Book  this 
morning  ?  And  when  he  read  the  words,  '  Plead  my 
cause,  O  Lord ! '  —  did  you  notice  that  he  said  by 
mistake,  '  Plead  her  cause  '  ?  " 

"  Aye,  did  I  no,"  said  Megsy,  "  but  whatna  precious 
and  comfortin'  psalm  o'  Davvid's  was  that.  Ah,  he 
was  the  graund  man,  Davvid.  Ye  speak  aboot  puir 
Megsy  Tipperlin,  but  ye  canna  blame  her  aboot  her 
tongue,  as  lang  as  yon  is  within  the  leds  o'  the  Bible. 
Hearken  to  Davvid.  *■  Let  them  be  confounded  and  put 
to  shame.  .  .  .  Let  them  be  turned  back  and  put  to 
confusion.'  '■  I  'm  wi'  ye,  Davvid,'  says  I,  '  and  when  ye 
are  at  it  dinna  forget  that  their  name  is  Torpheechan.' 
'Chaff before  the  wind  let  them  be.  Let  their  way  be 
dark  and  slippery,  and  let  the  Angel  o'  the  Lord 
chase  them.'  (Torpheechans,  hear  ye  that  —  I  '11  hae 
Gawbriel  himsel'  hard  on  your  tail  afore  I  hae  dune 
wi'  ye!)" 

"  Megsy,  Megsy,  I  wish  you  would  forgive  them,  as  I 
am  sure  I  do  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Forgie  them  — ow  aye,  I  dare  say.  It  is  like  your 
ain  sweet  sel',  my  bonny  lamb.  Ow  aye,  Margaret 
Tipperlin  will  forgie  them  —  when  she  watches  their 
funerals  daunerin'  kirkward  doon  the  glen." 

324 


NAOMI  TURNS   THE   TABLES   ON   RUTH 

She  recurred  to  the  words  of  the  Psalmist  in  that 
pleasant  and  comfortable  Psalm  from  which  she  had 
been  quoting. 

"  '  For  they  hid  their  net  for  my  bairn,  and  without 
cause  false  witnesses  laid  to  her  charge  things  she  knew 
not.'  Oh,  Davvid,  Davvid,  though  ye  were  a  terrible 
chiel  amang  the  lasses,  ye  had  the  root  o'  the  matter  in 
ye,  and  wi'  a  fu'  heart  and  a  willin'  tongue  auld  Megsy 
will  pray  your  prayer :  '  Rescue  my  soul  from  their 
destructions,  and  my  darling  from  the  power  o'  the 
lions  !  '  " 

It  was  indeed  small  wonder  that  Megsy  Tipperlin 
preferred  the  Old  Testament  for  her  private  reading. 

So  for  a  time  things  remained,  Revvie  going  about 
his  duties  with  a  heavy  heart,  feeling  for  the  first  time 
in  his  ministr)'  that  there  was  a  cloud  between  him  and 
his  people,  yet  fixed  in  his  mind  that  on  no  considera- 
tion would  he  abate  anything  for  landowner  or  sycophant, 
for  cold  -shoulder,  lying  tongue,  or  jealously  averted 
eye. 

But  as  the  days  passed  on  Hester  grew  more  and 
more  set  to  get  away,  and  eagerly  scanned  the  advertis- 
ing column  of  The  Caledonian  Mercury  for  anything 
that  might  give  her  a  home  and  work.  Yet  still  for 
Megsy's  sake  she  did  not  go,  but  ever  put  off,  hoping 
against  hope  that  this  people  among  whom  she  had  been 
brought  up  would  again  look  upon  her  with  friendly 
eyes. 

It  was,  strange  to  say,  Anders  MacQuaker  who  came 
to  the  rescue.  From  the  first  Anders  had  upheld  the 
cause  of  Hester,  and  with  tongue  and  strong  right  arm 
had  in  all  matters  approven  himself  a  worthy  champion 
of  the  oppressed.  It  chanced  that  he  came  one  night 
to    the  kitchen   door    (jf   the    Manse.      It   was   the   early 

325 


NAOMI   TURNS  THE   TABLES   ON  RUTH 

gloaming,  and  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  from 
within,  and,  having  no  fine  scruples  as  to  listening,  he 
heard  most  part  of  the  conversation  w^hich  has  already 
been  given.  Then,  with  a  cough  and  a  ceremonial 
cleansing  of  his  feet  on  mat  and  scraper,  he  ventured  in 
with  even  more  than  his  usual  humility. 

Megsy  received  him  austerely. 

"  Maybes  I  sent  for  ye,  Anders,"  she  said,  "  but  if  I 
did,  I  hae  forgot  it !  " 

"  No,  Margaret,"  said  the  fisherman,  "  ye  didna,  but 
I  thocht  I  micht  venture.  And  it  is  a  providence  that 
I  did,  for  the  Lord  has  opened  up  a  way." 

"  Dinna  swear,  Anders  MacQuaker,  in  the  hoose  o' 
God's  minister  !  " 

"  I  am  no  swearin',  Margaret,  but  as  I  passed  the 
window  I  heard  ye  speakin'  aboot  this  young  leddy 
gangin'  awa'  till  the  truth  be  made  plain " 

"  Anders,  ye  listened,  or  ye  could  never  hae  heard  that, 
ye  miserable,  crawlin',  creepin'  blastie  !  " 

''  Na,  Megsy,  ye  do  me  grievous  wrang.  I  didna  so 
muckle  listen  as  juist  incline  my  ear.  And  ye  ken 
that 's  commandit  in  the  Bible  itsel'." 

"  Dinna  blaspheme  the  Holy  Bulk,  Anders  Mac- 
Quaker,  wi'  your  unhallowed  jibes  !  " 

"  An'  it  cam'  into  my  head  that  I  kenned  a  way  oot. 
Ye  hae  heard  me  speak  o'  my  bit  cottage  that  I  biggit 
when  I  was  head  game-watcher  to  his  Grace.  It  is  nae 
mair  than  a  butt  an'  a'  ben.  It  stands  in  the  lee  o' 
the  Tap  Rig  o'  Bennanbrack.  It  is  a  denty  bit  spot, 
wi'  a  troot  burn  rinnin'  caller  and  clear  a  bowshot 
aneath  the  door.  There  's  nae  company  up  yonder  but 
the  whaup  gaun  whurly-wurly  doon  to  his  nest  in  the 
heather,  and  the  snipe  and  the  plover  winnowin'  the 
air  abune.      But   Buss-o'-Bield   is  a  bonny  name  an'   a 

326 


NAOMI  TURNS  THE  TABLES  ON  RUTH 

bien  bit  hoose,  weel  plenishcd  wi'  gear  an'  the  best  o' 
Scottish  blankets  on  the  beds.  Noo,  gin  you,  and  the 
bit  lassie,  Megsy,  wull  gang  up  there  a  wee  till  the 
shoo'er  be  slacked  and  the  storm  wind  lowns,  the  heart 
o'  Anders  AlacQuaker  will  rejoice  within  him." 

"  A  likely  story,"  rejoined  Megsy,  ungratefully,  "  an' 
tell  ye  me  what 's  to  become  o'  puir  Maister  Borrowman, 
honest  man,  left  a'  his  leevin'  lane  in  this  great  muckle 
shell  o'  a  Manse  !  " 

"  I  hae  thocht  o'  that,  too,"  said  Anders  the  provi- 
dent, "ye  see  a  man  like  me  has  nocht  else  to  do  but 
think.  And  though  ye  scorn  me,  Megsy,  there  is  but 
yin  in  a'  this  warl'  that  the  heart  o'  Anders  Mac- 
Quaker " 

"  Gin  ye  hae  ocht  sensible  to  say,  Anders,  my  bonny 
man,"  said  Megsy,  stopping  in  front  of  him  with  the 
porridge  spurtle  poised  in  her  hand,  "  say  on.  But  if 
ye  wantna  this^  gie  us  nae  havers  aboot  your  heart. 
Faith,  when  a  man  nearin'  the  three  score  an'  ten  speaks 
aboot  his  heart,  it  is  time  for  his  friends  to  be  seein' 
aboot  the  condition   o'   his   head  ! 

"  Well,"  said  Anders,  unabashed,  "  hear  what  I  hae 
to  say  at  ony  rate.  I  am  a  man  that  can  keep  hoose 
like  ony  woman  (barrin'  yoursel',  of  course,  Megsy). 
Weel,  I'll  come  and  ready  the  minister's  meals  —  aye, 
an'  see  that  he  tak's  them,  too.  And  mak'  his  bed,  and 
brush  his  clacs,  and  set  him  on  his  beast,  and  mind  him 
o'  baptisms  and  burials,  an'  to  pit  his  sermon  in  his 
pooch  on  Sabbath  mornin's.  And  if  there  be  ony  ithcr 
duties  that  ye  shall  be  pleased  to  lay  upon  him,  Anders 
MacQuakcr  will  faithfully  perform  them  without  fee  or 
reward." 

Megsy  looked  at  him  a  long  time  in  silence.  Then 
she   turned   to    Hester. 

327 


NAOMI  TURNS  THE  TABLES   ON   RUTH 

"  There  's  something  in  what  the  craitur  says,  too," 
she  remarked,  as  if  Anders  were  deaf,  "  ye  wad  wonder 
what  sensible  thochts  come  aneath  that  hoolet's  hassock 
o'  hair  at  orra  times.  Glimmerin's  o'  sense  the  craitur 
has  —  blinks  o'  insicht.  Faith,  I  'm  an  auld  dune 
woman,  and  no  fit  company  for  ony  young  thing,  but 
ye  are  plainly  pinin'  here,  and  we  will  e'en  try  this  bit 
cot  up  amang  the  muirs  o'   Bennanbrack." 


328 


CHAPTER   XLI 

THE    FIRST    HESTER 

THE  Scot  has  the  primitive  instinct  of  nomencla- 
ture. When  his  name  does  not  begin  with 
"  Mac,"  or  end  in  "  son,"  he  is  generally  a 
Wrie;ht,  a  Herd,  a  Shepherd,  a  Crock  Herd,  a  Smith,  a 
Black,  a  Brown,  a  Grey,  or  a  Reid.  His  houses,  when 
not  named  imaginatively  but  obscurely  in  the  aboriginal 
Gaelic,  are  Blinkbonnies,  Buss-o'-Bields,  Hermitages, 
Glower-owcr-'ems,  Cuddlecozies.  Beyond  the  Dungeon 
o'  Buchan,  the  Black  Craig  o'  Dee  looks  to  the  Three 
Cairnsmores,  and  the  most  northerly  of  these  passes  on 
the  regard  to  the  Hill  o'  the  Windy  Standard.  These 
are  picturesque  compounds,  mostly  of  Saxon  speech  ;  the 
others,  that  is  nine  out  of  ten  place  names  in  Galloway, 
are  still  more  sonorous  and  imaginative  in  Erse. 

Listen  !  Ben  Gairn  and  Ben  Yclleray,  Duchrac  and 
Craigronald,  Neldrichen,  Mulwharchar,  and  the  Rig  o' 
the  Star,  Loch  Macaterick  and  Loch  Enoch,  Loch 
Valley  and  Lonely  Loch  Moan  —  it  is  as  if  the  grim 
primeval  spirits  had  sat,  each  on  his  own  particular 
mountain  top  and  bandied  polysyllables  instead  of  bom- 
barding each  other  with  granitic  boulders. 

But  the  story  waits.  To  Anders  MacQuakcr's  house 
of  Buss-o'-Bicld,  in  the  little  ferny  clcuch  which  opens 
through  the  rough  heathery  moors  of  Bcnnanbrack, 
went  Hester  and  her  Mcgsy.  Anders  drove  them  in 
what  was  then  known  as  a  tax-cart,  that  is,  a  spring 
cart  upon  which  government  duty  had  been  paid.      The 

329 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

minister  walked  sedately  beside  them  the  first  part  of 
the  way,  silent  mostly,  but  sometimes  talking  blithely 
to  Hester,  or  bidding  her  take  care  of  the  tall  old 
Chambers's  'Journals^  and  closely-printed  Hogg's  Instruc- 
tors^ which  he  had  placed  for  her  reading  in  the  bottom  of 
the  cart.  He  was  wae  to  part  with  Hester  and  Megsy, 
he  said,  but  he  comforted  himself  by  the  thought  that 
both  of  them  would  soon  return  to  the  Manse  by  the 
Water  of  Darroch. 

It  was  dusk  when  they  arrived  at  their  destination, 
the  lucid  grey-purple  dusk  of  an  autumnal  day  when 
the  heather  is  browning  on  the  hills,  the  green  bracken 
searing  to  russet,  and  the  birches  standing  ladylike  and 
flame-coloured  in  every  glade.  Anders  unlocked  the 
door,  having  tied  his  beast  to  the  gate-post.  In  a 
minute  he  had  a  fire  licking  briskly  up  the  chimney,  and 
the  pale  blue  wood-smoke  scented  all  the  cleuch  and 
hung  over  the  cot  till  it  thinned  itself  out  am»ong  the 
rough  heather  of  the  Rig  of  Bennanbrack. 

Megsy  lit  the  lamp  and  went  from  room  to  room  with 
her  nose  in  the  air.  Of  these  there  were  but  three  — 
the  kitchen,  wide  and  blue-flagged,  its  beams  rough 
and  hung  with  hams,  and  with  shining  utensils  on  the 
wall.  A  tiered  and  many-plattered  dresser  climbed  to 
the  eaves,  gay  with  blue  willow-pattern.  Strings  of 
onions  and  dried  herbs  wavered  in  the  dusky  V  of  the 
roof  where  the  wood-smoke  hung.  Then  there  was  the 
"  room,"  where  a  white  bed,  turned  down  to  show 
pillows  and  linen  sheets  like  the  drifted  snow,  waited 
their  pleasure.  A  new  "  register "  grate  in  the  fire- 
place told  that  Anders  had  been  at  Cairn  Edward,  and 
had  left  some  of  his  hard-earned  "  siller  "  with  the  local 
ironmonger. 

There  was  even  a  carpet  in  lurid  hues  on  the  floor, 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

and  pictures  on  the  walls  representing  incidents  of  the 
chase  in  scarlet  and  grass-green.  A  great  family  Bible, 
bound  in  what  must  indeed  have  been  "  whole  calf " 
(if  not  cow),  lay  on  a  worked  wool-mat  on  the  chest  of 
drawers,  to  represent  the  outlook  upon  the  spiritual, 
and  on  the  table  general  literature  was  represented  by  a 
fishing-book  of  wonderfully  dressed  flics. 

At  the  back  a  little  room  opened  off,  just  affording 
place  for  a  bed,  a  round  table,  an  oaken  chest,  and  one 
chair.  In  this  Megsy,  without  a  word,  bestowed  her 
chattels.  After  she  had  finished  her  inspection,  during 
which  she  had  said  no  word  of  praise  or  blame,  she 
turned  to  Anders,  who  had  followed  her  from  room  to 
room  with  anxious  brows  of  suspense. 

"  It  '11  do,"  she  said,  generously,  "  it 's  nane  sae  ill  — 
for  a  man." 

Anders  MacQuaker's  spirits  instantly  rose  to  their 
zenith. 

"  I  am  richt  glad  to  hear  ye  say  sae,  Megsy,"  he  said. 
"  There  are  mony  things  that  ye  wad  baith  be  the  better 
o',  but  ye  '11  juist  hae  to  excuse  Anders  till  he  can  find 
oot  what  they  are.  Surely,  ye  will  ken  noo  that  he  can 
be  trusted  to  look  weel  after  the  minister  !  " 

But  Megsy  had  reached  the  limit  of  praise.  More 
was  not  good  for  Anders,  who,  like  all  men,  was  in  the 
opinion  of  Alarget  Tipperlin  "  an  upsettin'  craitur." 

"  We  '11  see  that  in  a  month  or  twa,"  said  Megsy, 
coolly,  "  but  in  the  mean  time  gang  your  ways  back  to 
the  manse  and  serve  the  supper.  For  weel  do  I  ken 
that  neither  bite  nor  sup  will  Maister  Borrowman  tak' 
till  ye  bring  him  the  news  that  we  are  safe  and  soond. 
(juid  nicht  to  ye,  Anders,  and  mind  and  warm  the 
minister's    boots    on    the    'hud'   befcjre    he    puts    them 


33' 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

So  Anders  MacQuaker  drove  away,  and  left  Megsy 
and  her  young  mistress  alone  in  the  deep  encompassing 
silence  of  Bennanbrack.  He  had  brought  a  basket  of 
trout  carefully  prepared  and  leaf-wrapped  along  with 
him  in  the  tax-cart.  These  Megsy  "  readied "  for 
supper,  Hester  helping  as  diligently  as  the  somewhat 
imperious  mood  of  her  companion  would  permit. 

"  Do  ye  think  that  I  am  an  auld  dune  woman  ?  "  she 
would  demand,  when  Hester  ran  across  the  kitchen  floor 
to  lift  the  frying-pan  off  the  fire  for  her,  "  gae  wa'  wi' 
ye,  lassie  !  Read  your  book  and  let  Megsy  Tipperlin, 
that  '  readied '  meat  for  your  faither  and  your  faither's 
faither,  do  her  duty  by  Anders  MacQuaker's  puir  silly 
bits  o'  burn  troots." 

Afterwards,  the  washing  up  having  been  carried 
through  on  a  compromise  and  Megsy  established  by  the 
fireside  with  her  knitting,  Hester  went  to  the  door  and 
listened  to  the  large  silence  which  at  that  hour  falls 
upon  the  hills.  At  first,  coming  out  from  listening  to 
the  purring  exudation  of  the  sap  from  the  beech-logs 
Anders  had  cut  for  them,  and  the  hum  of  the  kettle  she 
herself  had  hung  high  up  to  boil  easily  for  Megsy's 
good-night  glass  of  invalid  toddy  (the  "  invalid  "  strongly 
protesting  to  the  last  sip),  Hester  could  hear  nothing. 
The  silence  seemed  absolute.  By  and  by,  however,  a 
world  of  sounds  came  to  her  one  by  one,  as  it  were  dis- 
engaging themselves  singly  and  stealing  upon  the  ear 
rather  as  the  perfume  does  than  with  the  rude  assault 
and  battery  of  a  sound. 

The  booming  of  a  dor-beetle,  swooping  in  some 
irregular  comet-like  orbit  overhead,  droned  across  her, 
waxed  louder  and  then  thinned  out  rapidly.  A  fox 
barked  on  the  opposite  hill.  The  brack  burn  mur- 
mured low  under  its  bracken  coverts  down  in  the  glen, 

332 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

a  mere  humming  runnel  of  water  now,  where  in  the 
height  of  the  later  rains  a  month  hence  a  torrent  would 
be  roaring  red. 

Hester  thought  steadilv  of  Carus  Darroch.  It  was 
indeed  a  place  in  which  to  resolve  entanglements  and 
to  come  at  the  meaning  of  things,  Down  at  the  Manse 
she  had  had  many  matters  to  occupy  her  mind  — 
specially  as  to  what  she  should  do  in  the  future,  and 
how  relieve  Revvie  of  the  burden  which  (as  she  con- 
ceived it)  her  presence  was  laying  upon  him.  But  here 
on  the  high  Rig  of  Bennanbrack  she  would  have  time 
to  think,  and  out  of  thought  would  come  counsel  and 
the  vista  of  a  plain  way  for  her  feet  to  tread  in,  as 
down  an  avenue. 

So  first  of  all  she  thought  of  Carus.  In  the  hour  of 
her  need  she  had  turned  to  him,  and  right  faithfully 
had  he  kept  the  bond  of  ancient  friendship.  Almost 
too  well,  indeed,  for  his  eyes  had  said  more  than  his 
tongue  had  confirmed.  But  Hester  was  glad — yes,  she 
was  glad  that  he  should  not  think  of  her.  Only  she 
could  not  bear  that  he  should  care  for  Ethel  Tor- 
phichan.  Yes,  she  was  thankful  that  he  would  go 
no  more  to  Empress  Gate.  But  further  than  that, 
he  was  free.  He  could  be  nothing  to  her,  this  poor 
shamed  Hester  Stirling.  He  was  the  son  of  a  lord. 
He  would  be  a  great  man  some  day.  He  was  clever  — 
oh,  very  clever  —  and  ;r—  he  must  marry  some  one  worthy 
of  him,  a  great  lady  —  some  one  with  money  and  tame 
and  beauty — not  a  poor  little  nursery  governess  —  like 
—  like  Miss   Martin. 

"Come  your  ways  in,  bairnic,"  the  voice  of  Megsy 
reached  her  from  the  kitchen,  "dinna  stand  there  to 
get  your  daith  o'  cauld.  What  —  no  grcctin' ?  Hoot- 
hoot  (Hester   had   hastily   put    her    official    drying-apron 

333 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

to  her  eyes),  this  will  never  do  !  Tak'  your  Bulk, 
bairnie,  and  read  me  a  lesson.  There  shall  nae  harm 
come  to  my  wee  lass  sae  lang  as  Megsy  Tipperlin  can 
hirple  upon  the  face  o'  the  warld,  whilk  is  the  footstool 
o'  the  Lord  1 " 

And  so  with  all  her  honest  soul  aflame  at  the  injustice 
that  had  been  done,  and  in  womanly  understanding  of 
the  heart  of  one  little  more  than  a  child,  Megsy  com- 
passed Hester  about  with  observance,  putting  her  to 
bed  almost  as  if  she  had  been,  indeed,  once  more  the 
bairn  she  still  called  her.  And  as  the  rough  old  Scots- 
woman bent  over  to  kiss  her  darling  good  night,  suddenly 
Hester  threw  her  arms  about  her  neck,  and  in  an 
agony  of  sobs  whispered   in   her  ear. 

"Oh,  Megsy,  I  love  him — I  love  him.  He  must 
never  think  of  me  or  guess  that  —  that  I  love  him  so. 
But  I  cannot  help  it,  Megsy.  I  am  so  ashamed.  I 
cannot  help  it.      He  made  me  !  " 

*'  Bairn,  bairn,  wheesht  then,  speak  not  so.  He  is  no 
worthy  man,  whoever  he  may  be,  or  he  wad  never  hae 
spoken  of  love,  and  then " 

"  But  he  did  not,  Megsy,  indeed,  he  did  not,"  Hester 
interrupted,  eagerly.  "  It  was  all  my  folly.  But  all 
the  rest  were  so  horrid,  and  he  —  well,  he  was  great  and 
kind,  and  oh,  so  different.  And  I  could  not  help  it, 
Megsy.     What  shall  I  do  ?      What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Is  it  some  one  in  London,  bairnie  ?  " 

"No — yes,  he  is  in  London,  Megsy.  At  least,  I 
think  so." 

"  Tell  me,  tell  Megsy,  bairnie.  Megsy  that  loes  ye 
better,  far  better,  than  she  loes  her  ain  soul !  " 

"  I  cannot,  I  cannot.  There  is  nothing  to  tell."  But 
the  sobs  went  on,  and  Hester  thrust  her  face  closer  into 
the  loving  shoulder  of  her  first  and  only  nurse.     Megsy 

334 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

petted  her,  her  toil-hard  hand  growing  soft  as  satin  with 
love-vearning.  But  as  the  sobs  grew  tewer  and  stronger, 
the  anger  of  the  old  woman  flamed  out  suddenly. 

"  The  curse  of  the  deceiver  licht  on  him,  whacvcr  he 
may  be  !  The  curse  of  the  false  tongue  that  spak'  the 
words  of  love  when  there  was  nane  in  his  heart !  " 

"  Hush,  Megsy  !  No  —  no  —  you  do  not  understand. 
He  never  said  a  word.  It  is  not  his  fault.  It  is  all 
mine.  I  imagined  it  every  bit.  Just  because  he  was 
kind  when  every  one  was  cruel.  It  was  all  my  own 
follv.      But  oh,  Megsy,  I  am  so  miserable  !  " 

Then  Megsv  said  nothing  for  a  long  time.  She  sat 
with  Hester's  hand  in  hers,  and  an  arm  about  her  neck. 
She  watched  her  bairn  keenly,  moving  her  hand  in  the 
little  touches  of  sympathy,  which  more  than  all  else 
still  a  woman's  heart  when  it  rises  volcanic  within  her, 
and  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  are  broken  up. 

Then  at  last  she  said,  "  Bairnic,  did  ye  ever  hear 
aboot   vour  ain   mither  ?  " 

Hester  shivered  a  little  within  the  circling  arm.  She 
sat  up  on  her  elbow,  with  the  drops  still  falling  freely 
on  the  lace  of  her  snowy   night-gear. 

"No,  Megsy,"  she  said,  "at  least  only  what  my  aunt 
Torphichan  cast  up  to  me  when  she  was  angry." 

"  Heed  not  that,  dawtie,"  said  Megsy,  soothingly,  "  I 
who  kenned  the  matter  from  the  beginning  to  the  end, 
swear  to  you  that  there  was  no  shame,  I  will  tell  you 
the  story  of  your  mither.  Ye  are  like  her,  bairnie,  sae 
like  that  my  heart  yearns  for  ye.  I  had  never  meant 
to  tell  you  the  tale.  But  now  I  must  —  it  is  laid  upon 
me  for  the  sake  of  the  dead  and  because  of  the  love 
heritage  they   have  left   behind   them  !  " 

Again  Megsy  was  silent  a  while,  as  if  deciding  where 
to  begin. 

3.15 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

"  Ye  never  mind  o'  your  mither,  bairn,  and  so  can 
never  ken  that  like  she  vs^as  when  first  I  saw  her.  Ye 
favour  her  in  the  features,  but  ye  hae  the  Stirling  e'en 
and  the  Stirling  hair.  You  have  grown  some-deal  taller, 
too,  like  the  Stirlings.  But  your  mither,  Davvid's  wife, 
I  can  see  her  noo  —  a  creature  sae  denty,  flichterin'  like 
a  butterflee  frae  floo'er  to  floo'er,  her  hair  yellow  as 
gowd  aboot'  her  face,  her  e'en  sparklin'  wi'  an  inner 
licht,  half  o'  love  an'  half  o'  mischief,  Hester  Stirling 
(that  had  been  Hester  Greyson)  was  a  veesion  to  turn 
the  auld  heart  young  again. 

"  Aye,  Hester  she  was,  for  ye  were  caaed  for  her,  as 
ye  had  a  guid  richt  to  be.  She  was  the  dochter  o'  an 
auld  pernicketty  cat-witted  Englisher  that  cam'  to  the 
Assembly  Rooms  o'  Drumfern  to  learn  dancin'  an' 
deportment  to  the  burgher  bairns  and  the  sons  and 
dochters  o'  the  country  farmers.  Simeon  Greyson  was 
his  name  —  a  great  man  to  blaw  aboot  everything  that 
he  could  do,  and  aboot  the  great  man  he  had  been 
before  his  misfortunes.  What  they  were  he  never 
would  tell,  but  as  he  spent  maist  part  o'  what  he  made 
in  public-hooses,  guessin'  was  easy.  In  his  orra  time 
he  wad  gather  a  company  o'  play-actors  frae  Guid-kens- 
where  and  travel  the  countryside  playin'  '  Paitie  an' 
Roger,'  and  '  The  Curse  o'  Scotland  ' ! 

"But  Hester  Greyson — judge  ye  what  a  stirrin' 
there  was  amang  the  young  callants  o'  Galloway  when 
she  cam'  first  amang  them  —  her  e'en  glancin'  in  her 
held  wi'  mischief  and  youth.  But  innocent  and  un- 
spoilt, keeped  in  safety  by  the  mere  swarm  o'  her 
admirers,  there  was  nae  sweeter  maiden  in  the  king- 
doms three.  The  fame  o'  her  gaed  abroad  fast,  an'  far 
and  mony  there  were  that  sought  her  out.  Mony  drank 
wi'  her  auld  donnert  vaigabond  o'  a  faither  for  the  sake 

33^ 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

o'  bein'  askit  to  gang  back  to  the  lodgin's  that  she  made 
sac  bricht.  For  she  loved  the  worthless  deboshed  auld 
guid-for-naething,  and  worshipped  him  like  a  saint  —  a' 
because  she  had  as  vet  had  nacthing  else  to  love.  And 
her  heart  couldna  do  without  that  —  like  you,  my  bairn 
—  juist  like  you  !  God  help  a'  lovin'  hearts  in  their 
sair  need.      It  's  them  that  will   need   it ! 

"  Now  it  fell  oot  that  amang  ithers,  Davvid  Stirling, 
your  faither,  as  brisk  and  handsome  a  lad  as  ever  set 
leg  ower  saddle,  was  in  Drumfern  learnin'  the  land 
surveyin'.  For  his  faither  had  him  taught  a'  thing, 
because  he  was  his  only  son  and  a  clever  lad,  very  gleg 
in  the  uptak'. 

"  But  when  Hester  Greyson  cam'  on  the  scene,  I 
misdoot  me  that  Davie  gied  little  o'  his  attention  to 
the  measurin'  chain  and  level.  For  it  was  the  auld 
scoundrel's  plan  to  bring  his  dochter  to  the  dancin' 
academy,  and  gar  her  learn  the  beginners  their  steps 
and  whiles  be  partner  to  them  that  were  farther  on  in 
their  learnin'. 

"Like  a  feather  in  the  wind  Hester  Greyson  danced, 
and  because  she  was  sae  lightfit  and  denty  they  caaed 
her  the  Snawflake.  She  was  the  finest  dancer  that  had 
ever  been  seen  in  thae  pairts,  and  even  them  that  was 
coontit  high  gentrice  cam'  frae  far  to  see  her." 

Hester  began  to  understand  how  it  was  that  she  had 
pleased  M.  de  Saucy  so  much,  and  how  he  had  made 
his  teaching  of  the  Torphichan-Stirlings  short  and 
perfunctory  that  he  might  have  time  to  teach  Hester 
Greyson's  daughter  all   the   mystery  of  his  art. 

Megsy  went  on  after  a  little  pause  for  thought. 

"  Noo,  I  kenna  what  Davvid  Stirling  said  to  Hester 
Greyson,  nor  how  he  got  a  chance  to  whisper  in  her  ear 
amang  a'  that  multitude  of  suittjrs  for  her  favour.  Hut 
22  337 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

oor  Davie  was  ever  a  determined  callant  frae  the  time 
he  vi^as  denied  access  to  the  garden  in  the  berry-time, 
and  broke  a  hole  through  the  hedge  and  climbed  the 
six  foot  wa'  by  the  nicks  he  set  his  bare  taes  into.  At 
a'  events  there  were  looks  gi'en  to  him  that  werena'  for 
ithers  —  a  hand  mair  warmly  pressed  in  the  dance;  and 
maybes  —  I  am  an  auld  single  woman,  and  ill-versed  in 
sic  things  —  a  bit  kiss  in  the  bye-gangin'  at  the  dark 
places  o'  the  stairs. 

"  But  it  cam'  aboot  that  amang  the  ither  young  rakish 
gentlemen  that  rade  in  to  Drumfern  to  see  the  marvel 
o'  beauty  and  drink  wi'  the  auld  play-actin'  fule,  her 
faither,  was  my  Lord  Darroch,  then  a  fine,  handsome 
young  man  that  had  been  a  sojer  a  while.  But,  then 
as  noo,  as  ill-hearted  a  spendthrift  and  rakish  run-the- 
country  as  ye  could  find  gin  ye  searched  the  kindgoms 
three. 

"Weel,  it  fell  oot  that  he  saw  Hester,  and  immedi- 
ately began  to  be  verra  pack  wi'  her  faither.  For  that 
was  the  mainner  o'  the  man.  He  was  never  awa'  frae 
Drumfern.  He  took  private  lessons,  if  ye  please,  and 
in  that  guise  he  laid  siege  to  the  heart  o'  Hester  Grey- 
son.  And  with  Simeon  Greyson  it  was  'My  lord'  this 
and  '  My  lord '  that.  They  drank  in  the  publics 
together.  They  dined  in  a  private  room  at  the 
'  George,'  where  my  lord  put  up  his  fine  horses.  And 
so  it  gaed  on  frae  bad  to  worse,  till,  having  come  hame 
yae  nicht  early  frae  the  Assembly  Rooms  to  greet  hersel' 
to  sleep,  Hester  heard  the  twa  men  come  in.  And  there 
sitting  at  the  table,  birlin'  at  their  wine  and  crackin' 
their  ill-conditioned  jokes,  Hester  heard  how  that  her 
faither  had  actually  agreed  to  sell  her,  body  and  soul, 
to  my  Lord  Darroch  —  for  a  price.  She  heard  it 
arranged  how  she  was  to  be  taken  to  a   village  out  of 

338 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

Drumfcrn  on  pretext  of  a  visit.  There  my  lord  was  to 
repair  with  a  servant  or  two,  and  a  carriage  and  pair. 
Hester  was  to  be  entrapped  within,  and  the  twa  were  to 
start  for  England  as  hard  as  the  horses  could  gallop. 

"The  next  day  Hester  Greyson  fled  to  Davvid  Stirling's 
arms,  and  before  the  gloaming  fell  they  were  man  and 
wife.  But  Davvid  did  not  dare  to  face  his  father,  for  he 
kenned  he  was  a  hard  man.  He  got  a  cot  for  his 
lassie-wife  down  by  the  Saut  Water,  to  which  he  could 
resort  upon  occasion.  And  for  a  while  the  young  things 
were  fair  daft  with  that  fey  happiness  that  canna  last 
monv   months. 

"  But  there  came  a  word  frae  Drumfern  to  Arioland, 
maybe  through  the  angry  lord,  or  aiblins,  some  sus- 
picious word  frae  the  druclcen  disappointed  faither. 
And  sae  Davvid  was  ordered  hame.  He  would  not  come 
and  did  not.  Sae  his  faither  cut  afF  a'  supplies.  Only 
at  odd  times  his  mither  wad  get  a  pound  note  to  him, 
and  whiles  —  but  there  's  nae  need  to  speak  aboot  that. 
Noo,  as  the  months  gaed  by  and  nae  relief,  there  cam' 
a  time  when  the  need  o'  Davvid  and  Hester  grew  great, 
the  time  being  at  hand  when  she  behoved  to  dree  the 
weird  o'  a'  lovin'  women.  And  sae  Davvid,  putting 
his  pride  in  his  pooch,  brocht  her  up  there  on  his  arm 
to  the  great  door  o'  Arioland.  I  mind  it  wecl,  as  if  it 
were  yestreen.  It  was  a  winter's  gloaming,  the  wind 
icy  and  shrill,  flakes  o'  snaw  pingin'  in  the  faces  o'  the 
pair  o'  young  folk  as  they  stood  close  thegithcr  on  the 
doorstep. 

"  I  can  see  your  grandfaithcr  come  oot  to  them.  He 
had  a  grand  presence,  a  head  o'  white  hair  lang  and 
thick,  his  features  as  if  cuttit  in  granite  stanc,  and  his 
stature  was  like  to  a  cedar  on  Lebanon. 

"  '  Father,'  says  Davvid,  '  I  have  come  to  ask  your  for- 
33') 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

giveness.  This  is  my  young  wife.  Perhaps  I  ought 
to  have  told  you  first,  but  I  married  her  in  haste  to  de- 
liver her  from  a  terrible  evil.     And  I  love  her ' 

"  I  am  thinkin'  (Megsy  broke  off  a  moment)  that  the 
laddie  had  made  it  up  what  he  was  to  say  to  his  faither. 
Doubtless  it  had  been  a  great  thocht  to  him.  For  his 
faither  was,  as  I  tell  ye,  a  hard  man,  and  ever  kept 
baith  wife  and  bairns  at  a  distance,  as  if  he  had  been  a 
god.  But  when  he  came  to  the  last  words  a  kind  o'  cry 
brak'  frae  him,  and  he  sabbit  oot  the  last  words,  'I 
love  her,  father  !  ' 

"'I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you,  sir,'  said  his  faither 
in  a  lofty  voice.  '  You  have  chosen  your  path,  and 
you  can  walk  in  it.  I  do  not  know  this  woman,  but  I 
am  acquainted  with  her  kindred  and  circumstances. 
Had  you  asked  my  opinion  of  such  a  marriage  before,  I 
should  have  given  it  to  you.  I  have  nothing  to  say  when 
it  is  too  late  —  nothing  now,  nor  yet  ever  ! ' 

" '  Do  you  mean  that  you  will  turn  her  from  your 
door  ?  '  I  could  hear  the  Stirling  anger  rising  in  Davvid's 
voice.  '  I  tell  you,  once  for  all,  father,  this,  my  young 
wife,  is  weak  and  ill,  she  cannot  go  far  on  such  a  night. 
I  ask  you  to  be  merciful,  sir,  for  her  sake  and  not  for 
mine.' 

"  Then,  before  the  auld  man  could  answer,  the 
laddie's  mither  cam'  rinnin  oot.  '  I  beseech  you,  let 
him  bring  her  in  —  as  ye  hope  for  mercy,'  she  cried,  and 
truth  as  I  am  tellin'  you,  I  saw  what  I  am  sure  nae 
mortal  e'er  saw  o'  Isobel  Stirling.  She  kneeled  doon 
at  her  husband's  feet  and  fleeched  on  him  to  let  them 
bide. 

"  But  like  to  King  Pharaoh  of  old,  he  hardened  his 
heart,  and  would  not. 

" '  I  tell  you,  Isobel,'  he  said,  '  that  one  who  can 
340 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

behave  as  this  young  man  has  done,  is  no  son  of  the 
house  of  Arioland.  From  the  hour  of  his  marrying 
this  daughter  of  the  Philistines  he  was  as  a  stranger  to 
me.' 

"Then  the  puir  young  thing  that  had  been  standin' 
wi'  dooncast  face  on  the  doorstep,  drew  away  from  your 
faither's  airm  that  had  been  aboot  her. 

" '  David,'  she  said,  in  her  pleasant  English  voice, 
maist  like  the  far-away  croon  o'  doves  in  the  woods  in 
springtime.  '  David,'  she  says,  makin'  o'  him  wi'  baith 
her  hands  claspit  aboot  his  airm,  '  do  not  quarrel  with 
your  father  for  my  sake.  Take  mc  back  home  again. 
I  am  not  afraid.  I  can  wait  till  they  are  not  angry 
with   us   for   loving  one  another.' 

"  But  a  wild  cry  broke  frae  Davvid  Stirling,  for  even 
as  she  spake  these  words  she  lay  back  in  his  arms  with 
the  bonny  hopefu'  smile  yet  on  her  face,  and  swooned 
away.  His  mither  cam'  past  her  husband  and  would 
have  succoured  her,  but  Davvid  was  far  beyond  taking 
help  even  from  the  mither  that  bore  him. 

" '  Stand  aside,  mother,'  he  cried,  haudin'  his  wife 
like  ane  daft  wi'  jealousy,  in  the  hollow  of  his  airm. 
*■  None  belonging  to  the  house  of  Arioland  shall  touch 
her.  She  is  mine,  mine  alone.  I  am  no  son  of  that 
man's.  I  count  him  as  mine  enemy.  May  this  dear 
soul,  whom  I  love,  reproach  me  through  all  eternity  if 
ever  I  cross  that  man's  doorstep,  touch  a  penny  that  is 
his,  break  bread  or  drink  drop  with  him  !  May  mv  soul 
be  for  ever  accursed,  if  either  in  heaven  or  hell,  meet- 
ing him  whether  on  earth  or  in  the  abodes  of  the  dead, 
I  recognise  him  by  so  much  as  a  look,  because  of  the 
loving  young  heart  he  has  broken  this  day  at  his  own 
doorstep.  Aye,  if  I  were  in  the  Place  of  Torment,  it 
would  be  heaven  to  sec  him  tormented  beside  me  ! ' 

341 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

"And  without  anither  word,  but  this  terrible  oath, 
Davvid  Stirling  turned  and  gaed  down  the  avenue,  carry- 
ing his  wife  in  his  arms  as  if  she  had  been  a  bairn. 

"And  he  kept  his  oath.  He  took  his  wife  to  a  mean 
common  lodging  in  the  village  near  by.  He  worked  as 
a  labourer,  to  earn  the  bite  and  the  crust.  He  sent  back 
the  siller  his  heart-broken  mither  saved  for  him.  He 
passed  his  ain  faither  in  the  street,  he  in  his  workin' 
moleskins,  he  in  broadclaith  as  became  a  laird.  But 
nane  could  hae  telled  by  the  quiver  o'  an  eyelid  that  yin 
kenned  wha  the  ither  was. 

"  Then,  when  in  the  fulness  of  days,  their  bairn  cam' 
—  that  was  you,  my  wee  lamb  —  the  first  Hester  never 
rallied,  but  sank  slowly  —  aye  smilin',  and  smilin',  so 
they  said.  But  Davvid  wad  let  nane  near  her  but  the 
doctor,  till  yae  wild  March  dawnin'  the  mistress  o'  Ario- 
land  gaed  fair  distractit  and  fled  to  her  only  son,  leavin' 
the  front  door  open  ahint  her.  And  even  sae  I  fand  it 
in  the  mornin'. 

"  She  gaed,  and  wadna  be  said  nay  to,  and  they  tell  it 
(though  she  never  did)  that  even  then,  if  his  Hester  hadna 
fleeched  wi'  him,  Davvid  Stirling  wad  hae  denied  his 
ain   mither  at  his  door. 

"  The  young  thing  died  that  day  at  the  gloamin'  in 
Davvid's  airms.  And  the  verra  folk  in  the  street  stood 
still  wi'  fear  to  hear  the  greetin'  o'  the  strong  man. 

"Then  he  lockit  the  door  and  convoyed  his  mither 
hame  to  the  end  o'  the  avenue  o'  Arioland,  carryin'  you 
in  her  airms.  Farther  nor  that  he  wadna  gang,  but 
turned  him  aboot  and  up  the  street  to  the  joiner's. 
There  he  waled  boards  to  suit  him,  for  he  was  aye  a 
great  laddie  for  tools,  and  back  hame  he  gangs  wi'  the 
wood  on  his  shooder. 

"  They  heard  the  noise  o'  hammerin'  a'  that  nicht. 
342 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

But  in  the  morning  a'  was  still,  so  that  they  listened  to 
see  whether  he  was  awake.  For  they  thocht  that  his 
distraction  o'  mind  had  driven  him  to  something  they 
daredna  name. 

"  But  there  he  bode  twa  days  and  twa  nichts.  Neither 
was  blind  drawn  up,  lamp  lichtit,  nor  yet  did  a  pew  o' 
heartsome  reek  gang  up  frae  that  lum  tap.  Never  a  bite 
o'  meat  did  he  tak',  and  they  began  to  speak  o'  breakin' 
in  the  door.  But  when  it  cam'  to  the  point  there  wasna 
a  man  in  the  village  that  dared  face  him. 

"  But  on  the  morn  o'  the  third  day  as  the  men  gaed 
oot  to  their  wark  they  saw  Davvid  Stirling  leadin'  a  farm 
cairt.  There  was  a  board  laid  lengthways  across  it,  and 
ower  it,  a'  covered  wi'  a  white  sheet,  a  coffin  —  or  some- 
thing the  shape  o'  a  coffin.  Davvid  was  dressed  in  his 
best,  that  he  had  worn  when  he  was  learnin'  the  sur- 
veyin'  in  Drumfern.  And  as  he  gaed  through  the  village 
street  women  ran  to  their  windows  to  see  the  uncanny 
sicht  and  men  stood  wi'  their  hats  in  their  hands  as 
Davvid  Stirling,  the  son  and  heir  o'  a'  Arioland,  gaed  by 
to  bury  his  dead. 

"  But  they  micht  never  hac  been  there  for  a'  the  notice 
he  took  o'  them.  They  daredna  gang  ower  near,  but, 
like  the  folk  in  the  Bible,  they  followed  afar  off. 

"And  when  they  cam'  to  the  kirk-yaird,  they  looked 
aboot  for  a  grave,  but  saw  nane,  neither  was  the  grass 
so  muckle  as  broken.  But  Davvid  Stirling  never  looked 
to  the  richt  hand  nor  to  the  left,  but  took  his  way  to  the 
great  muckle  burial  vault  o'  the  Stirlings  o'  Arioland. 
Then  the  nearest  folk  saw  that  the  iron  yett  had  been 
opened,  for  the  padlock  lay  wi'  its  broken  hasp  at  the 
side.      And  the  door,  too,  had  been  forced. 

"Then  when  some  o'  them  gaed  near  to  gic  him  a 
hand    he    never   let    on    he   saw   them  ;    hut    he   to<jk  the 

343 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

coffin  ben,  aye  wrappit  in  the  white  sheet.  And  there 
he  laid  the  young  lass.  And  there  she  rests  to  this  day. 
"  Nay,  more,  after  he  had  ta'en  hame  the  beast, 
Davvid  gaed  back  to  the  tomb,  closed  the  door,  took  a 
chisel  oot  o'  his  pocket,  and  in  the  next  place  on  the 
monument  of  the  Stirlings  he  carved  as  clearly  as  ony 
stonemason,  the  words  —  mony  is  the  time  I  hae  seen 
them  — 

Hester  Stirling, 

Wife  of  David  Stirling^  younger^  of  Arioland^  died  March 
'^Oth^  1 8 — ,  aged  i']  years. 

"  Then  he  gaed  awa'.  Nae  man  saw  him  gang.  He 
left  his  hoose  as  it  stood.  The  rent  was  paid  to  the 
last  day  he  had  occupied.  But  sic  furniture  as  he  had 
wasna  touched.  The  landlord,  MacDowall  o'  the  Post- 
office,  got  the  gear  for  his  pains  after  a  year  and  a 
day.  Nocht  was  touched,  but  or  ben,  except  that  a' 
the  young  lass's  claes  and  puir  trifles  o'  ornaments  had 
been  burnt  to  ash  on  the  hearth.  They  fand  the 
buttons  o'  some  bairn-claes  and  wee  bits  o'  frocks  she 
had  been  makin'  against  the  time  o'  her  visitation  — 
but  nocht  else  belangin'  to  the  young  thing. 

"  And  every  yin  said  that  the  next  Sabbath  when 
auld  Maister  Stirling  gaed  to  the  kirk,  there  wad  be  a 
terrible  scene  when  he  read  the  inscription.  For  doot- 
less  he  wad  hear  tell  o't.  And  some  there  were  that 
threepit  that  murder  wad  be  dune  ower  the  head  o't 
yet.  For  they  said  that  auld  Arioland  (that 's  what 
they  caaed  your  grandfaither)  wad  hae  her  lifted  and 
buried  in  the  pauper's  portion.  And  ithers  said  that  if 
he  did,  Davvid  wad  surely  come  back  and  shoot  his 
faither.  Some  ^tvf  there  were  that  swore  that  they 
had  seen  him  at  nicht  slippin'  aboot  the  kirk-yaird,  or 

344 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

lying  in  the   wet  snaw  on   his  wife's  grave.      But  I  do 
not  ken   whether  that   was  true  or  no. 

"So  the  next  Sabbath  niornin'  there  was  a  great 
congregation  at  the  kirk,  or  raither  in  the  kirk-yaird,  for 
nane  gaed  in  that  could  help  it.  And  they  waited  for 
auld  Arioland.  For  he  was  an  elder  and  never  kenned 
to  be  absent.  Syne  he  cam'  down  the  street,  riding 
like  a  great  gentleman  on  his  fine  horse.  He  lichtit 
doon  at  the  kirk  yett  and,  as  was  his  custom,  gied  the 
beast  to  a  servant.  Then  he  gaed  in  and,  withoot 
stopping  or  noticin'  the  folk,  walked  slow  and  deliberate 
to  the  family  vault.  The  door  had  been  fastened  again 
and  the  padlock  was  on.  But  Davvid's  inscription  was 
tresh  and  clean.  He  stood  facing  the  monument  and 
read  it  several  times  ower  withoot  spcakin'.  And 
though  there  were  mony  that  watched  his  face,  they 
couldna  see  onything   there. 

"  At  last  he  spoke,  slow  and  deliberate,  as  if  to  him- 
sel'  :  '  Yes;'  he  said,  '  it  is  her  right  !  I  deny  it  not.  It 
is  her  right  !  ' 

"  And  with  that  he  turned  away  and  went  up  to  his 
seat  in  the  kirk.  For  though  a  hard  man  and  with  a 
heart  of  stane,  your  grandfaither  was  just  according  to 
his  lights." 

'■'■  And  was  my  father  never  seen  again  till  he  came 
home  to  see  granny  and  me?"  asked  Hester,  whose 
white  face  and  quivering  lip  told  the  tension  of  the 
strain.  Yet,  as  is  mostly  the  case,  her  first  question 
was  quite  commonplace. 

"  He  was  never  cither  seen  or  heard  tell  o',  my  bairn. 
And  when  he  cam'  back  he  never  gaed  near  the  kirk 
or  the  grave  where,  beside  the  woman  of  his  love,  lay 
the   man  he  had  renounced   as  a  faithcr." 

"  I  know,"  said  Hester,  positively,  "  why  he  did  not  go." 
345 


THE     FIRST     HESTER 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Megsy. 

"  Because  he  loved  her  !  " 

"  Say  rather  because  he  hated  him ! "  corrected 
Megsy;  "ye  are  a  dour  queer  stock,  you  Stirlings  o' 
Arioland.     Ye  keep  your  grudges  far  ayont  the  grave." 

"  Then  I  am  sure  I  am  no  true  Stirling,  Megsy,"  said 
Hester,  smiling  a  little ;  "  I  think  I  could  forgive  even 
Ethel  Torphichan." 

But  she  added  in  her  heart,  "  Only  I  do  not  want 
her  to  marry  Carus  !  " 

"  An'  what  aboot  your  uncle,  lassie,  that  got  ye 
pitten  into  the  jail  ?  "  asked  Megsy. 

"  Oh,  I  have  forgiven  him  long  ago,"  answered 
Hester,  lightly. 

"  And  why  is  it  harder  for  you  to  forgive  Ethel 
Torphichan  than  her  faither  ?  "  But  that  is  the  one 
thing  Hester  would  not  tell  Megsy. 


34^ 


CHAPTER   XLII 
THE   GRUMPHY    ONE   TAKES    A    BATH 

CARUS  DARROCH  had  risen  early.  He  was 
nominally  on  a  visit  to  his  grandmother  at  the 
Lodge  of  Knockdon,  a  shooting-box  which  lies 
high  up  among  the  hills  which  separate  the  uplands  of 
Galloway  from  the  rich  holms  of  the  valley  of  the 
Nid. 

Or  rather,  to  be  more  explicit,  that  imperious  lady 
had  put  the  trim  little  house,  with  its  wide  moors  and 
scanty  fringing  firwoods,  at  the  sole  disposal  of  the 
young  man.  She  herself  would  sooner  have  been  laid 
decently  to  rest  in  the  burial-place  of  all  the  Niddis- 
dales  than*  leave  London  in  May  to  be  buried  alive  at 
Knockdon. 

So  in  this  solitary  place  Carus  dwelt,  with  only 
grave  James  Lammie  and  his  buxom  wife  to  attend 
upon   him. 

Carus  was  supposed  to  be  reading  law,  and  so  he  was, 
but  a  good  deal  of  his  time  was  taken  up  with  another 
matter,  which,  however,  was  not  without  its  bearing 
upon  the  first.  It  was  a  matter  which  had  occupied 
him  much  during  the  last  six  months.  He  was  re- 
arguing and  investigating  the  case  of  Hester  Stirling 
and  her  uncle.  He  was  pursuing  it,  as  he  told  himself, 
solely  as  an  interesting  sidelight  upon  his  future  pro- 
fession. It  really  was  Jim  Chctwynd's  business,  so  he 
argued,  but  then  Chctwynd  was  a  very  busy  man.  And 
so,  all  without   fee  or  reward,  Carus  look  the  matter  off 

347 


THE  GRUMPHY  ONE  TAKES  A  BATH 

his    friend's    hands  —  only    keeping    him    posted    as    to 
results,  and  profiting  by  his  carelessly-given  advice. 

So  he  threshed  it  all  out  a  thousand  times  and  in  a 
thousand  different  ways  —  why  Sir  Sylvanus  had  taken 
so  sudden  and  violent  a  prejudice  against  one  so  beauti- 
ful and  innocent,  so  loveable  and  winsome.  (This  part 
of  the  argument  took  some  time.)  How  it  was  that  the 
necklace  with  the  ruby  clasp  was  apparently  of  the  same 
set  and  pattern  as  those  in  the  possession  of  Sir  Sylvanus, 
what  David  Stirling  had  to  do  with  the  matter,  why 
Hester  had  gone  off,  nobody  knew  where  —  and  (this 
took  longer  than  all  the  rest  put  together)  where  it  was 
that  she  had  gone. 

Carus  had  never  spoken  to  his  father  since  the  day  of 
the  trial,  nor  had  my  Lord  Darroch  on  his  side  made 
any  communication  whatever  —  certainly  not  one  cover- 
ing a  cheque.  If  it  had  not  been  for  his  grandmother, 
Carus  would  have  been  in  difficulties,  though  he  had 
left  Dover  Street  and  the  fleshpots  of  the  West-end 
immediately,  and  gone  to  reside  in  Lincoln's  Inn  in  a 
couple  of  rooms  which  at  Niddisdale  Castle  they  would 
have  considered  inferior  accommodation  for  a  lady  setter 
of  warrantable  ancestry.  But  there  was  something 
Bohemian  in  the  nature  of  the  young  Master  of 
Darroch,  and  so,  despite  the  injury  to  his  feelings, 
which  separation  from  Hester  made,  Carus  was  sur- 
prised to  find  how  much  happier  he  was  in  the 
society  of  men  who  devilled  for  the  great  leaders 
of  the  Bar,  and  wrote  for  any  paper  they  could  screw 
a  couple  of  guineas  out  of,  than  he  had  been  in 
Dover  Street  as  the  only  son  of  my  Lord  Darroch 
of  Darroch. 

He  had  written  several  times  to  Mr.  Borrowman 
upon  business  connected  with  his  task  and  had  received 

348 


THE   GRUMPHY  ONE   TAKES  A  BATH 

answers  in  which  no  mention  was  made  of  Hester  or  of 
anv  subject  near  to  his  heart.  So  he  could  not  rest  till 
he  had  travelled  north  to  Galloway,  and  early  one 
winter's  eve  he  knocked  at  the  manse  door.  Anders 
MacQuaker  it  was  who  opened  it.  The  minister  was 
in,  Anders  was  sure  of  that.  More  he  did  not  know. 
He  could  not  tell  where  Miss  Hester  was.  He  could 
not  tell  whether  Megsy  was  in  the  flesh  or  out  of  it ; 
but  he  surmised  the  former,  "  for,"  he  said,  "  I  wad  hac 
been  sure  to  hear  o't,  gin  Margaret  Tipperlin  had  been 
deid!" 

Mr.  Borrowman  smiled  a  quiet  smile  as  he  rose  to 
welcome  the  voung  man. 

"  This  comes  of  answering  letters  judiciously,"  he 
said  to  himself. 

And  when  Carus  came  in,  the  minister  began  to  talk 
at  once  about  the  openness  of  the  winter,  and  how  far 
the  farmers  of  the  glen  were  on  with  their  ploughing. 

"  You  afe  staying  at  the  Castle,  I  suppose  .''  "  he  said, 
though  indeed  he  supposed  nothing  of  the  kind,  for  all 
the  country  knew  the  terms  on  which  Lord  Darroch  was 
with  his  son. 

"  No,"  said  Carus,  "  I  am  at  the  Cross  Keys  to-night 
—  to-morrow  I  go  over  to  my  grandmother  at 
Niddisdale  !  " 

"  Ah,"  said  the  minister,  "  I  pray  you  commend  me 
to  her  Grace,  and  thank  her  on  my  behalf  for  all  her 
kindness  to  —  one  so  dear  to  this  house  !  " 

Here  was  Carus's  opportunity,  and  he  leaped  upon  it. 

"Is  Miss  Hester  not  at  home?  "  he  asked,  trying  his 
best  to  conceal  his  anxiety. 

"  She  is  absent  from  us  at  present  !  "  said  the 
minister,  succinctlv. 

"  May  I  ask  when  she  will  return  ?  " 
349 


THE  GRUMPHY  ONE  TAKES  A  BATH 

"  Certainly,"  answered  the  minister,  staring  straight 
into  the  fire ;  "  I  am  only  sorry  that  I  cannot  tell  you  — 
I  do  not  know." 

"  She  —  she  is  well,  I  hope  ?  You  hear  from  her,  do 
you  not  ? " 

"  She  was  well  when  last  I  heard.  She  does  not 
usually  write  to  me  directly,"  said  the  minister, 
guardedly. 

Carus  would  dearly  have  liked  to  ask  for  Hester's 
address,  but,  being  a  gentleman,  he  felt  the  constraint 
in  the  minister's  tone,  and  the  implied  hint  that  it  was 
none  of  his  business.  So  he  remained  silent,  and 
presently  rose  to  take  his  leave. 

"  When  Miss  Stirling  returns  home,  you  might  let 
Mr.  Chetwynd  know,  or  what  is  the  same  thing,  write 
me  a  line  to  Lincoln's  Inn.  You  know  I  am  a  lawyer, 
now,  too,  or  at  least,  one  in  the  making." 

"  When  Miss  Stirling  returns  I  shall  undertake  that 
Mr.  Chetwynd  hears  of  it,"  said  the  minister,  with  some 
point. 

Without  another  word  Carus  bade  him  good  night, 
and  as  Anthony  Borrowman  lighted  his  lamp  and  bade 
Anders  bring  in  the  frugal  supper  of  porridge  and  milk, 
he  smiled  quietly.  "  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  I  have 
done  a  good  night's  work  for  myself !  "  he  murmured. 
''  The  rougher  the  road  is  made  for  young  feet,  the 
keener  are  they  to  run  post-haste  along  it.  But  it  shall 
never  be  said  that  a  Stirling  of  Arioland  threw  herself 
at  the  head  of  a  Darroch.  Though  Carus  is  a  good 
lad,  and  if  he  be  in  earnest  —  well,  these  present  troubles 
will  make  for  his  good  !  " 

It  is  not  easy  to  put  on  record  the  feelings  of  Carus 
Darroch  after  his  courteous  repulse  at  the  Manse.  He 
tried  Mistress  Curlywee,  over  at  the  Cross   Keys,  but 

35° 


THE  GRUAIPHY  ONE   TAKES  A  BATH 

that  lady,  divided  between  her  respect  for  the  future 
Lord  Darroch  and  her  fear  of  the  present  one, 
judiciously  said  much  and  told  nothing.  The  young  lady 
had  certainly  been  in  the  village,  but  she  had  not  been 
seeing  her  for  some  weeks — or  it  might  be  more. 
And  she  could  not  "  chairge  her  memory  "  with  ever 
hearing  where  she  had  gone.  She  thought  back  to 
some  of  her  mother's  people  —  play-actors,  she  thought 
they  were.  This  last  little  feminine  tag  of  spite 
A'listress  Curlywee  could  not  deny  herself.  Lords  would 
be  lords,  no  doubt.  And  as  the  auld  cock  craws,  the 
young  one  learns.  Moreover,  it  was  an  indubitable  fact 
that  cat  will  after  kind,  but  —  it  was  not  a  seemly  thing 
that  the  matter  should  be  brought  into  her  decent  law- 
abiding  house.  She  was  a  woman  with  daughters,  and 
bound  to  be  careful. 

So,  still  none  the  wiser,  Carus  went  forth,  as  it  were, 
seeking  whom  he  might  devour.  It  says  something 
for  the  equitable  balancing  of  earthly  affairs  that 
Grumphy  Guddlestane  was  abroad  that  night.  His  was 
not  a  subtle  intellect  and  when  he  got  a  subject  to  talk 
about  he  made  the  most  of  it.  At  a  certain  stage  of 
his  liquor  each  night  it  was  Grumphy's  wont  to  relate 
his  adventure  at  the  old  castle  to  a  band  of  sycophants. 
This  occurred  regularly  between  the  eighth  and  ninth 
tumblers,  if  Grumphy  got  so  far.  This  night,  however, 
Grumphy  had  been  turned  out  of  the  Cross  Keys  by 
Mistress  Curlywee  for  creating  a  disturbance,  and  he 
was  reduced  to  standing  at  the  Cross  and  re-tclling  the 
story  to  the  loafers  congregated  there.  He  was  in  the 
full  swing  of  oaths  and  revilings  when  Carus  strolled  by, 
his  hands  in  his  pockets.  He  thought  at  first  that  it 
was  some  one  making  a  political  harangue.  But  a  name 
he  heard  caused  him  to  stop  dead.      There  is  no  need  to 

35' 


THE   GRUMPHY  ONE  TAKES  A  BATH 

reproduce  Grumphy's  language.  Besides,  it  is  impossible. 
Only  those  who  know  Grumphy  can  imagine  it.  It  is 
sufficient  to  say  that  every  evil  word  in  Grumphy's 
limited  vocabulary,  every  foul  insinuation  that  would 
occur  to  a  mind  so  grovelling  was  reproduced,  reiter- 
ated, and  enlarged  upon  with  a  kind  of  drunken  triumph 
which  roused   Carus  to  wild  rage. 

"  An'  says  I  to  her, '  Oot  o'  this  wi'  ye,  ye  besom  —  an' 
if  ever  I  see  your  face  on  this  side  o'  my  mairch  dyke  — 
I'll '" 

At  this  point  Carus  elbowed  his  way  through  the  little 
laughing  throng  and  stood  before  Grumphy  Guddlestane. 
Grumphy  did  not  know  his  master's  son,  for  Carus  had 
quarrelled  with  his  father  before  Grumphy's  time. 

"  Wha  are  ye  ?  "  said  Grumphy.  "  Anither  o'  thae 
play-actors'  boys,  that  's  corned  lookin'  for  the  bonny 
lass  that  stole  the  necklace  !  " 

Carus  did  not  stop  to  argue. 

"  This  is  the  way  with  lying  blackguards  !  "  he  cried, 
and  the  next  moment  he  had  Grumphy  by  the  collar  of 
his  coat  behind,  and  the  tale-teller  was  being  punted 
down  the  street  of  the  Clachan  of  St.  John  by  that 
very  practical  stern-propeller,  a  double-soled  hobnailed 
shooting  boot.  At  first  Grumphy  tried  to  turn  round 
so  as  to  come  to  grips,  but  the  athletic  leg  which  was 
attached  to  the  boot  kicked  all  the  harder,  and  Grumphy 
could  only  go  forward  with  increased  speed. 

Now  at  the  foot  of  the  village  street  there  is  a  sharp 
turn  of  the  road  and  a  low  dry  stone  dyke.  Immedi- 
ately on  the  other  side  of  this  lie  the  byres  and  stables 
of  the  farm  of  Braehead.  Just  over  the  wall  (the  sani- 
tary authorities  have  shifted  it  now)  was  the  "midden" 
of  the  farm-yard,  at  this  season  a  black  island  of  fertiliser 
in  the  midst  of  a  shallow   sea    of  liquid    top-dressing. 

352 


THE  GRUMPHY  ONE  TAKES  A  BATH 

Grumphy  was  travelling  fast,  the  propeller  in  full  action 
behind.  Neither  took  much  heed  to  their  going,  and 
the  consequence  was  that  Grumphy  tripped  over  the 
low  wall  at  the  moment  when  Carus,  losing  hold  of  his 
collar,  put  all  his  energy  into  a  final  effort.  The  wall 
crumbled,  Grumphy  pitched  forward  bodily.  There 
was  a  bat-like  figure  spread  for  an  instant  dark  against 
the  moonlight —  a  splash  —  and  as  a  dripping  scarecrow 
emerged  amid  the  endless  laughter  of  his  late  audience, 
Hester  Stirling  was  avenged  upon  her  adversary. 

"I  '11  hae  the  law  on  him,"  said  Grumphy,  splutter- 
ing, "  I  '11  find  oot  his  name  and  kill  him " 

"  Faith,  an'  I  can  tell  ye  that,"  said  a  sharp  boy  who 
had  seen  with  delight  the  whole  affray,  "  do  ye  no  ken 
vour  ain  young  master — Carus,  Lord  Darroch's  son 
and  heir.  Son  and  heir,"  he  repeated,  tauntingly,  "  hae 
the  law  on  him,  Grumphy,  faith,  I  wad  that.  It  is 
worth  your  while." 

"Lord* hae  mercy,"  muttered  Grumphy,  "what  a 
mistak'  I  hae  made.  I  '11  get  my  leave  as  sure  as  fate. 
And  a  suit  o'  best  claes  spoilt,  that  cost  me  twa  guid 
pound  notes  in  Tobermory  !  " 

So,  amid  cries  of  "  Keep  wecl  to  loo'ard,  Grumphy  ! 
Faith,  ye  hae  been  seein'  your  auld  mither  this  nicht ! 
Gang  and  bury  yoursel',  Grumphy,  it 's  your  only 
chance !  "  together  with  other  efforts  of  rustic  wit, 
Grumphy  took  his  dripping  and  circuitous  way  home- 
wards towards  the  cottage  which  had  once  been  Dick- 
son's, at  the  great  gate  of  Darroch  Castle. 

In  his  room  at  the  Cross  Keys  Carus  inspected  his 
right  boot. 

"  I   wish   I    had   had   on   my    Alpine  ones,"   he-   mur- 
mured   regretfully,    "  these    have    only    tackets   on    the 
sole —  none  along  the  edges." 
^J  353 


THE  GRUMPHY  ONE  TAKES  A   BATH 

But,  curiously  enough,  Grumphy,  steeping  his  best 
two-pound  Tobermory  suit  in  a  tub,  and  throwing  his 
red  silk  tie  out  of  the  window,  did  not  complain  of  the 
same  thing.  All  he  said  was,  "What  a  mistak'  I  hae 
made  —  O  Lord  !   what  a  mistak'  I  made  !  " 

So  may  there  always  be  tacketty  boots  at  hand  — 
Alpine,  with  plated  toes,  to  enter  into  rearward  judg- 
ment with  the  Grumphies  of  the  land.  It  is  the  only 
argument  they  understand. 


354 


CHAPTER   XLIII 

DIAN'S    KISS 

TO  the  broad  farce  of  the  village  street  succeeds 
the  idyll  of  Knockdon.  It  was  May,  and  the 
24th  of  the  month.  Sometimes  in  a  bitter 
season  the  breezes  blow  from  the  Arctic  even  then  with 
a  vigour  and  incision  truly  Polar.  But  this  had  been  a 
genial  year.  From  the  middle  of  March  there  had  only 
been  enough  showers  to  water  the  earth  and  cause  the 
grain  to  grow  for  the  food  of  man  and  beast.  Even 
these  had  fallen  mostly  in  the  night. 

The  hawthorn,  which  in  Scotland  is  mostly  June- 
bloom  instead  of  May-bloom,  was  fully  out  by  the 
middle  of .  its  own  proper  month.  Even  high  up  on 
Knockdon  the  little  buds  of  the  heather  began  to  show, 
tiny  tips  of  viridian  green,  of  a  colour  keen  as  the  leaves 
of  turnips  after  the  first  frost.  It  was  a  fine  morning, 
and  Carus  Darroch  was  almost  happy.  After  all,  it  was 
not  possible  that  in  so  small  a  world  he  could  finally 
and  altogether  lose  sight  of  Hester.  The  Providence 
which  had  brought  them  together  would  keep  their  love- 
tale  from  ravelling  out  like  a  knotless  thread.  So  he 
kept  repeating  to  himself.  Providence  has  its  work  cut 
out  for  it  in  attending  to  the  importunities  of  lovers. 

"Never  mind  about  others,  give  us  the  desire  of  our 
hearts  !  "  is  their  modest  prayer. 

But  Carus  felt  that  even  such  high  interest  needed 
supplementing.  He  left  no  stone  unturned  to  hud 
Hester.      He    had    attached  Dickson    to  his  faction  upon 

355 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

his  last  visit  to  the  Clachan  —  the  one  that  Grumphy 
Guddlestane  had  such  cause  to  remember  —  by  the 
simple  process  of  kissing  his  wife.  Good  mistress 
Dickson,  who  had  kissed  Carus  when  she  could  ever 
since  his  babyhood,  was  enchanted  that  "  The  Master  " 
should  not  forget  old  times,  and  that  after  the  salute 
he  should  ask  for  one  of  her  bannocks,  which,  having 
received,  he  graciously  sat  and  ate  in  her  back-shop  like 
any  common  person. 

The  Dicksons  had  set  up  a  little  place  of  business 
in  the  main  street  of  the  Clachan  and  were  doing  very 
well. 

But  even  Mistress  Dickson  could  discover  nothing  of 
the  whereabouts  of  Hester.  For  a  Scottish  village  is  a 
strangely  circumscribed  place.  Within  a  radius,  varying 
according  to  the  width  of  ploughed  land  about  it,  every- 
thing is  known  with  photographic  particularity.  A  man 
cannot  get  shaved  without  its  being  canvassed,  and  no 
words  can  express  the  minuteness  with  which  the 
characters  of  women  are  studied.  But  once  out  of  the 
radius  of  ploughmen  who  come  to  the  smiddy  to  get 
their  coulters  sharpened,  or  their  horses  shod,  out  of  the 
ken  of  the  herds  who  descend  whistling  upon  the  village 
shops  for  flour  and  baking  soda,  off  the  main  roads  by 
which  the  farmers  and  their  spouses  drive  to  the  market, 
you  are  in  a  region  about  which  nothing  whatever  is 
known  or  cared.  A  river  may  divide  two  parishes  as 
completely  in  interests  and  acquaintance,  in  bargain- 
striking  and  love-making,  as  if  it  constituted  the  bound- 
ary of  two  hostile  countries.  A  mountain  range  or  a 
stretch  of  wild  heathery  hills  is  a  watershed  of  news  not 
to  be  passed  over.  So  it  came  to  pass  that,  though  she 
dwelt  within  a  dozen  miles  of  the  Kirk  Yett,  St. 
John's    Clachan    knew  no   more  what   had   become   of 

356 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

Hester  than  did  the  busy  world  of  Hyde  Park  and 
Empress  Gate. 

So  that  one  May  morning  —  the  24th,  as  we  have 
said  —  when  Carus  strode  over  a  Httle  hill  all  clad  in  the 
young  green  of  the  bracken,  and  saw  —  Hester  sitting 
on  a  stone  twenty  yards  beneath  him  with  a  book  in 
her  hand,  he  stopped  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

The  girl  did  not  move.  She  was  looking  absent- 
mindedly  over  the  open  volume  in  her  lap  towards  the 
distant  hills  behind  which  lay  St.  John's  and  Darroch. 
Her  chin  was  sunk  prettily  in  the  hollow  between  her 
thumb  and  first  finger.  The  teasing  wind  had  played 
such  havoc  with  her  hair,  that,  feeling  quite  safe  in  that 
desert  place,  she  had  taken  out  the  hairpins  in  the  swift, 
mechanical  way  peculiar  to  women,  and  now,  rejoicing 
in  their  liberty,  the  plenteous  locks  were  straying  loosely 
over  her  shoulders  and  falling  almost  to  her  waist. 

For  a  long  minute  Carus  stood  still  and  drank  in  the 
gladness  of  the  unexpected.  The  day  seemed  suddenly 
changed  to  something  infinitely  airier  and  sweeter.  The 
breeze  that  stirred  Hester's  hair  came  to  him  like  a  draft 
of  some  rare  vintage  cooled  with  snow. 

Carus  took  a  step  forward.  The  sun  was  still  behind 
him,  for  it  was  early  and  the  shadows  long. 

Something  dark  passed  Hester  vaguely,  too  large  to  be 
the  sweeping  wing  of  a  moor-bird  stooping  in  clamorous 
defence  of  its  young,  too  dense  for  the  shadow  of  a  cloud 
floating  in  the  upper  air.  She  looked  once  over  her 
shoulder  and  instantly  sprang  to  her  feet,  letting  her 
l)0(jk  drop  unheeded  on  the  heather.  Like  a  startled 
fawn  she  stood  a  moment  half  defiantly  at  bay,  half 
poised  for  flight,  while  the  red  tide  of  a  delicious  shame 
flooded  her  cheek  and  neck.  She  had  hidden  herself 
well  —  but  not  t(jo  well.      It  had   been   for  the   best,  as 

357 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

Megsy  said,  but  oh,  it  was  so  sweet  to  be  found  again. 
She  did  not  mind  the  danger,  not  a  bit. 

«  Hester  !  " 

He  came  nearer,  holding  out  both  his  hands,  a  look 
of  boyish  eagerness  on  his  face,  all  his  soul  bent  to  one 
point. 

She  did  not  speak,  but,  as  if  mesmerised,  slowly 
extended  her  right  hand.  Then,  as  if  obeying  a  sudden 
impulse,  she  gave  him  the  other  swiftly. 

"  Hester  !  " 

He  was  nearer  to  her  now  and  a  sense  of  blessed 
danger,  a  delicious  thrill  of  the  quite  unknown  came 
over  the  girl,  making  her  tremble  from  head  to  foot. 
Carus  had  had  six  months  to  think  things  over.  He 
knew  his  own  mind.  He  was  not  to  be  put  off  the 
moving  speeches  he  had  prepared.  Many  a  time  his 
eyes  had  failed  from  his  law-book,  so  that  the  "brevier" 
of  the  notes  pied  before  his  eyes,  because  he  had  seen 
that  beautiful  face  looking  at  him  even  as  it  was  doing 
now. 

But  for  all  that,  now  he  knew  not  quite  how  to  begin 

—  nor  where.  For  in  six  months  on  the  moors,  what 
with  the  hard,  clear-ringing  walks  of  winter,  the  trudges 
through  the  fresh  spring  rains,  the  quiet  untroubled 
warmth  of  summer  days,  the  country  food  and  upland 
air,  this  was  a  new  maiden  who  now  stood  before  him 

—  a  beautiful  girl  with  rippling  hair  falling  to  her  shoul- 
ders, a  woman  crowned  with  the  glory  of  her  first  youth. 
Hester's  lips  were  red  and  tremulous.  Carus  remem- 
bered that  they  had  been  rather  palish  pink  when  he  used 
to  look  at  them,  and  wish  —  well,  what  he  wished  ten- 
thousand-fold  now.  There  was  a  brilliancy,  a  liquid 
sweetness  in  her  eyes  that  fairly  stupefied  him.  Where 
were    his    clever    speeches    now  —  the    thoughts    that 

358 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

burned,  the  words  that  fitly  clothed  the  expression  of  his 
devotion  ?  It  was  all  to  arise  so  naturally.  He  would 
not  for  the  world  take  her  by  surprise.  Hester  Stirling 
was  a  fawn  easily  frightened.  He  would  deal  with  her 
so  delicately  —  so  tactfully,  that —  And  so  forth  even 
unto  Amen  ! 

"  Hester^  I  love  you  !  " 

He  was  gripping  her  wrists  hard,  having  unconsciously 
shifted  his  hold.  And  Hester  —  what  of  her  ?  For  she 
also  had  had  six  months  in  which  to  make  her  resolves. 
And  many  admirable  ones  she  had  made.  If  ever  be 
should  seek  her,  find  her,  speak  to  her  of  love,  as  he  had 
looked  it  the  night  of  the  ball,  the  morning  at  the  sta- 
tion, she  would  remind  him  of  his  great  position,  of  the 
anger  of  his  father,  of  the  disgrace  she  would  inevitably 
bring  upon  him.  She  would  tell  him  that  she  would  be 
as  bad  as  her  enemies  thought  her  if  she  permitted  her- 
self to   listen  to  him   for  a  moment. 

"Hester,  I  love  you — I  adore  you  —  I  cannot  live 
without  you  !  " 

The  words  do  not  vary  very  much,  because  the  thing 
does  not  vary  very  much  either. 

And  Hester,  the  girl  of  the  hundred  brave  resolutions, 
felt  herself  slipping  away.  These  brave  forbiddings 
would  not  come  to  call.  These  resolute  determinations 
became  momentarily  less  resolute. 

She  wondered  what  it  would  feel  like,  just  for  an 
instant.  She  saw  it  in  his  eyes.  She  felt  his  arm  about 
her  a  full  half-dozen  seconds  before  it  went  there, 
apparently  of  its  own  accord.  She  was  just  looking  up 
at  him  with  eyes  of  reproach  for  the  purpose  of  telling 
him  he  must  not,  when  a  tremendous  thing  happened. 
Oh  yes,  she  had  been  kissed  before.  Every  girl  who  is 
worth    anything    has    been.      Hut     this,    that    sent     the 

359 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

world  whirling  and  broke  the  firmament  into  a  dozen 
pieces  !  Surely  this  could  not  be  a  kiss,  only  a  kiss. 
Is  there  no  other  word  for  it  ?  How  poor  and  inefficient 
is  this  English  language. 

Yet  that  was  all  it  was,  and  that  kiss  broke  the 
crystal  sphere  of  the  old  world  of  Hester  Stirling 
and  Carus  Darroch,  and,  as  through  a  smashed  shop- 
front,  they  stepped  out  into  a  new  world  hand  in  hand, 

"  Oh,  Carus,  we  ought  not,  we  must  not !  It  is  surely 
wrong  !  " 

Like  a  fluttered  bird,  Hester  protested,  neither 
coquettish  nor  angry,  but  awed  by  the  very  wonder  of 
it.  The  thing  was  so  sweet  that  it  must  be  wrong.  She 
was  so  happy  that  it  must  be  wicked.  Hitherto,  Hester 
had  been  either  quietly  happy  or  acutely  miserable. 
But  this  that  came  altering  in  a  moment  the  standards 
of  a  lifetime,  changing  the  future,  emptying  and 
making  futile  the  past.  Surely  all  this  could  not  spring 
from  one  kiss  given  and  taken. 

No,  little  Hester,  no  —  but  from  a  kiss  returned.  Not 
to  give,  not  even  to  receive ;  to  give  back  —  that  is  what 
in  the  consecration  of  love  is  most  blessed.  That  is  what 
shatters  an  old  world  and  creates  a  new.  And  those 
who  are  cool  enough  to  reason  about  the  matter  may 
scofF,  but  they  who  know,  know. 

They  walked  on  a  little  up  the  hill.  Hester  not  pro- 
testing any  more,  nor  Carus  answering.  But  their  hands 
were  clasped  in  each  other's.  At  last  beneath  a 
"  gairy  "  of  rock,  with  the  green  ivy  pouring  out  of 
every  crevice  and  crawling  laboriously  up  the  perpen- 
dicular face,  they  paused.  Then,  as  with  one  mind, 
they  sat  down.  There  was  something  strong  and 
triumphant  in  the  carriage  of  the  young  man.  Yet 
when  he  spoke  it  was  pleadingly  enough. 

360 


f 

i 

"V    • 

-■'■ 

- 

,  .■  <J 

bill.    'AAo   iu    U.UIV    111  A I    11    MLai'    1>1,    WlCKl-Li. 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

"  Hester,  tell  me  that  you  love  nie  !  " 

She  turned  her  eyes  shyly  up  to  him  for  the  least 
fraction  of  a  second.  Then  as  swiftly  they  averted 
themselves. 

"  Oh,  you  do  not  need  telling,"  she  said,  pitifully, 
"  you  know  !  " 

"  But  I  want  to  hear  you  say  it,"  said  the  young  man, 
after  his  kind. 

"  I  have  done  wrong.      I  have  let  you  kiss  me  !  " 

Again  the  fallacy. 

"  But  what  is  the  wrong  in  that,"  cried  Carus,  so 
impetuously  that  a  black-faced  ewe  that  had  been 
standing  near,  shied  and  bolted  up  the  screes  with  a 
rattle  of  loose  stones,  "  if  we  love  one  another  ?  I  have 
told  you  —  now  tell  me  !  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  a  moment,  gathering  courage. 
Then  she  spoke. 

"  I  do  love  you  !  "  she  said. 

But  even  so  the  young  man  was  not  content.  There 
are  some  facts  which  are  the  better  for  being  restated 
from  several  points  of  view.  So  it  may  be  recorded 
among  these  remarkable  and  unprecedented  occurrences, 
that  before  his  curiosity  was  satisfied  Hester  had  to 
assure  Carus  that  she  loved  him  better  than  all  the 
world,  better  than  Megsy,  better  than  Revvic.  For 
love  is  a  retail  trader  and  needs  to  be  minutely 
satisfied. 

Then,  being  of  an  enthusiastic  and  yet  most  practical 
turn  of  mind,  Carus  talked  of  ways  and  means  while 
Hester  listened,  her  mind  within  her  all  the  while 
urging  her  to  disbelieve  in  the  reality  of  the  words  she 
heard.  It  seemed  that  she  must  be  dreaming,  and  that 
she    would   wake     up    presently   in    the    dull    garret  at 

3(^1 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

Empress  Gate  or  in  her  own  little  bed  at  the  Manse. 
But  there  was,  after  all,  something  solid  and  comfort- 
ing in  Carus's  arm  about  her  waist,  and  her  head 
nestled  in  the  place  arranged  by  an  all-wise  Nature  for 
similar  contingencies  occurring  at  intervals  throughout 
the  ages. 

"We  shall  be  very  poor,  Hester,"  Carus  was  saying, 
"  but  I  know  I  can  make  enough  by  writing  for  us  to 
live  on.  Trowbridge  said  the  other  day  that  it  was  a 
pity  I  was  going  to  be  a  lord,  when  I  was  born  to  be  a 
journalist.  And  I  only  need  you  to  make  me  work 
really  hard.  Then  there  is  grandmother  Niddisdale. 
She  told  me  she  would  disinherit  me  if  I  did  n't  marry 
you " 

"  Did  she  say  that  ?  "  said  Hester,  looking  up  for  the 
first  time  and  smiling  ;  "  I  am  glad  !  " 

Consequently  Carus  was  glad  too,  and  wasted  some 
valuable  time  in  proving  it. 

"  Not  that  I  mean  to  depend  on  her,  dear  old  soul," 
said  Carus,  tenderly ;  "  but  if  I  am  to  have  her  money 
when  she  is  dead,  I  don't  think  she  is  the  sort  to  let  us 
starve  when  she  is  living.  Besides,  she  loves  you,  and 
I  am  sure  she  is  very  fond  of  me !  " 

"  She  has  had  Vic  with  her  for  six  months  —  she  will 
be  fonder  of  her  than  of  me  now  !  "  said  Hester,  some- 
what mournfully. 

"  Vic,  indeed  !  "  flashed  Carus  in  high  fume ;  "  Vic 
is  well  and  very  well  —  but  she  never  was  —  never  could, 
never  would  —  no,  not  if  she  lived  to  be  as  old  as 
Methuselah.  I  had  a  letter  from  Kipford  the  other 
day,"  Carus  went  on  more  slowly  and  thoughtfully, 
"  He  seems  to  be  seeing  a  lot  of  them  just  now  out 
there  !      I  wonder  if  his   father  knows  ! " 

Hester  instantly  sat  erect.  There  is  no  scent  so 
362 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

keen  as  that  of  a  girl,  happy  in  the  freshness  of  her 
own  love  happiness,  on  the  trail  of  the  love-story  of  a 
friend. 

"You  don't  mean ?  " 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Carus,  smiling  at  her  eager  face 
and  the  eyes  suffused  and  brilliant.  "  But  all  the  same 
it  is  deuced  odd  !  Kippie  used  so  to  hate  what  he  called 
'  tagging  round  with  a  lot  of  women.'  " 

"  Ah,  that  is  what  you  will  sav  about  mc  in  a 
little !" 

"You  are  not  a  lot  of  women  —  you  are  the  woman 
—  the  Only  One  !" 

So  the  great  day  passed  on  overhead,  only  the  blue 
vault  standing  still  —  as  it  were,  growing  paler  and 
hotter,  till  their  shadows,  when  at  last  they  came  forth, 
were  just  little  pools  of  indigo  on  the  green-lichened 
rocks  of  the  high   Rig  of  Bennanbrack. 

"  Is  it  not  wrong  of  you  to  stay  so  long  with  me  — 
are  they  not  expecting  you  at  Knockdon  where  you  are 
staying  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  laughed,  gladly  and  lightly  (it  was  all  over 
now,  the  bar  crossed,  the  twin  lights  of  the  port  shining 
peacefully  on  either  hand),  "yes,  James  Lammie  and 
Robina  his  wife  will  be  expecting  me.  Also  my  break- 
fast will  be  expecting  me.  I  rose  early  and  came  away 
without   it " 

"  What,"  cried  Hester,  seizing  him  by  the  wrist  and 
almost  dragging  him  forward,  "  you  do  not  mean  to  tell 
mc  that  you  have  had  nothing  to  eat  all  this  morning  ! 
And  me  keeping  you  here " 

"Don't  pity  mc,"  said  Caius.  "  I  forgot  all  about  it. 
I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  would  ever  be  hungry  again  !  " 

Which  show's  that  Carus  either  spake  in  his  haste  or 
had   had   very   little  experience   indeed. 

3(^3 


D  I  A  N'  S     KISS 

"  Oh,  come  away  quick,"  cried  Hester,  all  the  mother 
that  lurks  under  the  sweethearting  of  every  woman  up 
in  arms  within  her.  "  Come  away,  and  Megsy  will 
find  you  something  to  eat  till  she  gets  the  dinner 
ready  !  " 

So  in  this  practical  mood  they  walked  towards  the 
comfortable  thatched  roof  of  Buss-o'-Bield  hand  in 
hand. 

Now  it  chanced  that  Megsy  had  gone  to  the  door  with 
an  iron  "  pingle"  in  her  hand  when  she  saw  this  strange 
spectacle  —  Hester  and  Carus  walking  over  the  heather, 
head  bent,  foot  heedless,  wrapped  in  each  other. 

Megsy  let  the  "  pingle "  fall  with  a  clatter  on  the 
pebbles  and  went  within  with  a  sharp  pain  at  her 
heart. 

"  Megsy,  Megsy,"  she  said,  "  ye  hae  lost  your  bairn 
for  ever  and  a  day.  She  is  her  mither's  ain  dochter. 
Frae  this  day  forth  she  will  never  cast  mair  nor  a  kindly 
thocht  ower  her  shooder  to  puir  auld  Margaret  Tipper- 
lin  that  happit  the  baby  clouts  aboot  her,  and  wha's 
heart  has  yearned  ower  her  ever  since,  nicht  and  day, 
dark  or  shine.  Oh,  Megsy,  Megsy,  verily  ye  are  a 
weedow  and  a  woman  withoot  bairns  this  day." 

And  with  her  apron  to  her  eyes  she  lamented  bitterly, 
because  that  for  which  she  had  besought  the  Lord  with 
tears  in  the  night  watches  had  been  given  to  her. 

For  the  cup  of  the  Lord's  brewing  is  ever  a  mixed 
chalice  when  he  comes  to  set  it  to  our  lips. 


364 


A 


CHAPTER    XLIV 

LOVE'S    GOLDEN    WEATHER 

ND  then  what  days  were  these  that  ensued ! 
Never  had  such  a  glorious  summer  been  seen 
in  Galloway.  Blue  day  succeeded  blue  day  as 
the  sun  of  May  became  the  sun  of  June  and  the  fresh 
clarity  of  the  mid-year  merged  into  the  great  white- 
flaming  July   heats. 

Day  by  day  Carus  came  over  from  Knockdon,  Jamie 
Lammie  and  his  wife,  meantime,  greatly  marvelling. 

"  Whiles  he  wull  talc'  a  fishin'-rod  in  his  hand,"  said 
the  latter,  "  but  feint  a  troot  does  he  ever  fetch  hame. 
And  it 's  my  belief  that  maistly  it  is  never  waggled  ower 
a  burn.  I  put  up  a  bit  piece  for  him,  but  as  often  as  no 
he  either  forgets  to  lift  it  off  the  hall  table,  or  if  it  gets 
the  length  o'  his  pooch,  it  is  there  when  I  brush  his  coat 
the  neist  morning  !  " 

"  Do  you  no  mind,  Robina,"  said  her  husband,  '■'  when 
I  was  coortin'  you,  hoo  I  used  to  forget  to  tak'  my 
porridge " 

"  Haud  your  tongue,  man,  and  think  shame  to  even 
yoursel'  to  her  Grace's  grandson,  or  me  to  the  bravv 
Icddy  that  he  '11  mairrv  when  his  time  comes,  bless  his 
bonny  young  face.  Ye  hae  neither  sense  nor  mense, 
Jamie  Lammie.  (lang  aboot  your  wark,  yc  sumph, 
or  if  sae  be  that  ye  are  lookin'  for  a  job,  peel  me  the 
pitaties  ! " 

It  was  well  for  their  secret  that  James  Lammie  was 
naturally  incurifnis   as  well   as   a    little   la/.y,  and   that    he 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

preferred  wheeling  his  barrow  of  last  year's  leaves  along 
the  narrow  garden  walks,  or  pottering  about  the  boat- 
house  down  by  the  loch,  to  the  observation  of  the  facts 
of  nature  upon  the  mountain  tops. 

Yet  the  whaups  knew,  and  in  a  week  or  two  scarcely 
put  themselves  about  to  rise  from  their  nests  among  the 
yellow  bent,  as  Hester  and  Carus  came  by.  These  were 
no  egg-lifters,  they  confided  to  each  other,  as  some  were 
who  ought  to  have  known  better.  If,  indeed,  in  their 
curious  linked  manner  of  walking  they  came  upon  a  nest 
with  beautifully  mottled  brown  and  amber  eggs,  they 
might  stand  a  little  and  look  down  at  it.  But  good 
Mistress  Curlew  knew  very  well  that  they  would  pass 
on  again  and  in  a  moment  forget  all  about  it. 

Every  morning  by  nine  of  the  clock  Carus  was  ex- 
pected to  appear  on  the  sky-line  to  the  east,  eagerly 
watched  for  and  instantly  observed  by  Hester,  Megsy 
feigning  inattention,  or  even  a  certain  boredom  accord- 
ing to  her  mood. 

"  He  '11  surely  never  come  the  day  —  he  '11  hae  some 
o'  his  graund  freends  wi'  him  to  bear  him  company  at 
the  fishin'  or  maybe  at  the  shootin'."  (It  was  June.) 
"  Surely  we  '11  get  a  day  to  oorsel's  the  day  !  " 

Then  Hester  would  laugh  and  run  to  Megsy  with  a 
quick  hug,  crying,  "  You  silly  old  jealous  Megsy,  of 
course  he  will  come.     Why,  he  promised  me !  " 

And  of  course  that  settled  it. 

Then  from  the  door  Hester  would  spy  him  black 
against  the  sky,  and  presently  he  would  begin  to  play 
hide-and-seek  among  the  scattered  granite  blocks  on  the 
High  Rig  —  some  with  their  noses  in  the  air  like  Polar 
bears  sniffing  the  breeze,  others  like  natural  menhirs 
raising  warning  fingers  to  the  skies.  Hester's  eyes  never 
wholly  lost  track  of  Carus.     She  used   instinctively  to 

366 


LOVE'S     GOLDEN     W  E  A  T  H  E  R 

know  where  he  would  appear  next,  and  many  a  time  the 
traveller  himself  would  pitch  abruptly  forward  headlong 
over  a  stone  as  he  watched  for  that  flash  of  white  ker- 
chief when  the  slight  summer-gowned  figure  in  the  door- 
way raised  its  arm. 

Bv  the  time  he  had  reached  the  scaur  of  the  bunisidc 
Hester's  breath  began  to  come  a  little  faster. 

"I  don't  think  I  shall  go  and  meet  him  this  morn- 
ing," she  thought,  "  perhaps  it  is  better  that  I  should 
not." 

When  she  looked  again,  lo  !  he  was  crossing  the 
meadow. 

"  But  he  will  be  so  disappointed  if  I  don't,"  relented 
Hester,  and  with  a  hasty  glance  in  the  glass  for  that 
universal  purpose  of  woman's  —  "to  see  that  I  am  all 
right,"  she  ran  down  the  little  path,  clicked  the  tiny 
green  gate  behind  her,  and  stood  under  the  alders, 
where  the  shade  is,  to  wait  her  lover. 

And  to  £!arus  coming  across  the  meadow,  amid  the 
delicate  scents  of  cowslip  and  Mayflower,  it  seemed 
that  life  had  never  been  worth  living  before.  Day  by 
day  he  found  her  more  beautiful.  And  she  was  more 
beautiful  too.  For  as  genial  sun  and  gracious  rain 
cause  a  flower  generous  by  nature,  but  starved  of 
light  and  moisture,  to  bud  and  bourgeon  and  become 
a  thing  more  glorious  than  itself,  so  in  the  sunshine 
of  a  great  love  and  the  inner  glow  of  heart-happiness, 
Hester  Stirling  really  did  grow  in  beauty  every  day. 

Carus  advanced  towards  her,  a  look  of  eager  happiness 
in  his  eyes.  As  he  came  he  snatched  his  cap  from  his 
head  with  a  bovish  gesture.  He  saw  a  tall  maiden  in  a 
flowered  summer  dress  stand  waiting,  bareheaded,  a  knot 
of  pale  blue  ribbon  at  her  throat.  Then  he  U)oked  at 
her,  taking  her  in  from   the  topmost   curl   of  her  dainty 

3(^7 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

head  to  the  little  slipper  that  peeped  out  from  beneath  the 
sprigged  amber  gown. 

And  like  that  other  lover  his  heart  sang,  "There  is 
none  like  her,  none." 

But  as  he  came  nearer  he  saw  only  her  face,  as  she 
turned  her  head  a  little  back  to  gaze  up  at  him.  But 
that  which  he  saw  there  is  the  thing  best  worth  seeing 
on  earth  —  the  look  of  the  perfect  love  which  casteth 
out  fear  on  the  face  of  a  woman.  Then  to  the  gracious 
smile  of  happiness  succeeded  the  yet  more  gracious  suf- 
fusion of  tears,  maidenly  reserve,  girlish  pride,  womanly 
surrender,  and  behind  all  the  delicate  beginnings  of  that 
wifely  companionship,  the  solicitude  semi-maternal 
which  is  the  best  ultimate  and  issue  of  the  love  of  man 
and  woman. 

And  to  Carus  her  face  shone  like  the  face  of  an 
angel.  He  did  not  analyse  these  mysteries  or  even  name 
them  to  himself.  Instead  he  wanted  to  kiss  her  good 
morning  —  a  much  more  sensible  thing.  He  troubled 
himself  about  nought  else.  Only  the  tale-teller,  sitting 
afar  and  alone,  has  time  or  care  to  separate  trait  from 
trait  in  a  loving  woman's  face. 

For  a  moment  Carus  held  her  a  little  off  at  arm's 
length,  his  hands  upon  her  shoulders.  And  as  he  felt 
her  throb  beneath  him  in  all  the  radiance  of  perfect 
youth  and  perfect  love,  he  cried  out,  "  Oh,  you  are  more 
beautiful  than  you  were  yesterday  !  " 

And  as  the  gladness  sprang  responsive  from  her  eyes 
and  her  lips  pouted  to  answer  him,  he  stooped  and 
gathered  her  to  him  so  close  that  speech  had  perforce 
to  give  place  to  little  dovelike  murmurs,  and  it  seemed 
to  Hester  that  she  floated  with  shut  eyes  upon  a  great 
upholding  ocean  —  a  mother-sea  in  whose  arms  she  and 
her  love  were  for  ever  alone  and  for  ever  safe. 

368 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

When  Hester  came  to  herself  she  would  find  herself 
walking  up  the  narrow  path  with  Carus  a  little  in  front 
of  her,  hastening  to  greet  Megsy  with  a  kiss,  half  fond 
and  half  propitiatory.  She  followed  blushful  and  deli- 
ciously  shamed  that  Megsy  should  know  why  she  had 
gone  to  meet  him.  Yet  she  told  Megsy  every  night  how 
she  loved  him,  and  Megsy  sighed  as  she  thought  how 
entirely  this  heart-eager,  love-hungry  Hester  was  ventur- 
ing her  all  upon  the  faith  of  a  man. 

"She  is  her  mother's  daughter  —  praise  the  Lord  !  " 
said  the  old  woman,  "  a  lass  like  that  gies  awa'  her  heart 
a'  in  yae  payment,  and  if  she  loses,  God  help  her,  she  is 
for  ever  bankrupt  and  dyvour  !  " 

Then,  as  she  looked  at  Carus,  Megsy  would  add,  deep 
in  her  soul,  "  But  for  a'  that  the  lad  is  an  honest  lad  — 
the  Lord  keep  him  sae,  for  in  his  hands  alone  are  the 
hearts  o'  men  !  " 

After  this  Carus  sat  him  down  on  the  oaken  chair  at 
the  corner  of  the  bakeboard  and  talked  joyously,  stealing 
scraps  of  Megsy's  cakes,  till,  as  in  former  days  at 
Arioland,  she  threatened  to  chastise  him  with  the  rolling 
pin  if  he  nipped  any  more  pieces  out,  spoiling  the  sym- 
metry of  her  shapely  farlcs. 

And  ever  as  Hester  went  about  the  clean-scoured 
kitchen,  a  white  apron  girding  her  —  the  most  adorably 
dainty  piece  of  housewifery  coquetry  Carus  had  ever 
seen  —  behind  Megsy's  unconscious  back  eye  continually 
encountered  eye,  spoke,  and  was  answered.  And  upon 
Hester's  check  the  rose  flushed  and  paled  responsive. 
It  was  all  very  wonderful  to  the  young  man,  who 
had  never  before  known  love  and  who  had  had  strength 
of  mind  enough  not  to  waste  himself  on  love's  coun- 
terfeit, to  find  himself  suddenly  first,  and  presently 
everything  in  a  sweet  and  j^irlish  heart.  Tlicn  the  very 
24  369 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

plain-song  intimacies  of  the  house,  the  lifting  of  com- 
mon burdens  thanked  by  quickly  averted  glance,  half 
accidental  touches  of  hand  on  hand  as  they  carried 
the  brimming  can  of  water  from  the  well  beneath  the 
garden  hedge,  the  light  in  his  love's  eyes  shining  and 
dimming,  in  golden  sparklings  even  as  the  sun  glimmered 
on  the  swaying  crystal  floor  of  the  pail — these,  and 
many  things  else,  impressed  themselves  on  his  memory 
with  the  matchless  clearness  of  a  first  experience. 

How  gladly  they  sat  down  to  the  midday  meal, 
Megsy  bustling  about  to  serve  them.  Hester  indeed 
regularly  laid  a  place  for  her,  but  as  regularly  Megsy 
would  lift  her  plate  and  carry  it  to  the  window  sill, 
saying,  "It  is  no  for  a  puir  auld  wife  like  me  to  be 
sittin'  doon  wi'  a  son  o'  my  Lord  Darroch,  and  the  last 
o'  the  true  stock  o'  the  auld  Stirlin's  o'  Arioland  —  fegs, 
set  me  up,  I  may  no  ken  muckle,  but  I  ken  better  nor 
that." 

But  between  the  three,  thus  divided  by  the  old  Gallo- 
way woman's  innate  sense  of  "  gentrice,"  the  talk  and 
jest  passed  free  and  joyous.  They  laughed  at  anything, 
or  when  there  was  nothing  to  laugh  at,  they  laughed 
at  that.  Anders  came  twice  a  week  and  brought  them 
provisions  —  often  a  fishing  of  trout,  or  sometimes  a 
boiled  ham.  Revvie  came  when  he  could  —  though  as 
yet  Carus  and  he  had  never  met.  And  whenever  he 
came  he  would  have  a  dozen  of  eggs  in  a  handkerchief, 
or  six  pots  of  jam  set  in  a  basket  a-swing  over  his  arm 
from  Megsy's  private  cupboard. 

In  the  afternoon  Hester  and  Carus  went  out  again  to 
the  moor,  having  first  helped  Megsy  to  wash  up  the 
dishes,  for  which  purpose  Carus  was  (quite  insufficiently) 
girt  about  with  an  apron  of  Hester's  which  somehow 
seemed  to  carry  with   it   a   subtle  fragrance  of  girlhood 

370 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

and  youth.  With  laughter  and  scolding  the  work  was 
done.  Pretty  wet  hngers  were  lifted  against  threatened 
encroachments.  Arched  eyebrows  frowned  at  stupidity, 
or  red  lips  smiled  all  too  alluringly  upon  honest  applica- 
tion to  business.  With  a  new  delight  Carus  found  him- 
self carrying  piles  of  plates,  conscientiously  rubbed  clean, 
to  wall  presses  which,  being  opened,  sent  forth  a  pleasant 
smell  of  oatcakes  and  last  year's  honey.  He  hardly  be- 
lieved he  could  be  the  same  man  who  a  week  ago  had 
lounged  about  with  a  law  book,  listless  and  sad,  under  the 
spindling  tir-trees  of  the  Knockdon  plantations. 

After  that  they  set  out  with  glad  anticipation  in  their 
eyes.  The  sky  was  brighter  above,  the  heather  greener 
(not  yet  red)  underfoot,  the  birds  most  heartsomely 
clamorous  as  they  swooped  in  comet-like  courses  about 
their  heads  —  on  every  side  of  them  love,  and  mating, 
and  glad  weather. 

Alegsy  watched  them  go  a  little  wistfully.  Some- 
times she  'accompanied  them  as  far  as  the  gate,  one  step 
through  which  brought  them  from  Anders'  carefully 
cultivated  garden  out  upon  the  beleaguering  heather. 
They  bade  her  farewell  as  if  they  had  been  about  to  cross 
the  seven  seas  (nor  by  their  protestations  would  they 
greatly  have  cared  if  they  had,  so  be  that  they  were 
together.      So  sublimely  selfish   is  young  love  !  ). 

And  Megsy,  smiling  gravely  upon  them,  would  wave 
a  hand  and  call  her  last  warning,  "  See  that  ye  fall  not 
out  by  the  way  !  " 

I  love  to  dwell  a  little  among  these  high  and  golden 
days.  They  speed  so  fast  when  we  have  them.  The 
story  may  not  progress  very  swiftly  at  such  points,  but 
it  is  always  allowable  to  skip.  And  for  Hester  and 
Carus  there  had  been  much  of  pain  anil  darkness  in 
both    their    lives,   and    long    seasons   when    the    heavens 

371 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

seemed  as  brass  and  the  earth  iron.  Let  them  wander, 
then,  awhile,  hand  in  warm  hand, thoughts  and  emotions 
passing  and  repassing  in  sympathetic  currents,  alter- 
nating between  their  hearts  without  the  need  of  the  wires 
of  spoken  word. 

They  did  not  wander  far  from  the  cot  of  Buss-o'- 
Bield  —  wherein,  perhaps,  was  their  safety  from  questing 
herds  and  Jajnie  Lammie.  They  generally  went  directly 
to  "  their  place  "  as  they  both  called  it,  a  nook  beneath 
the  clitF  where  a  chance  granite  boulder  afforded  them 
shelter  and  a  dry  seat,  where  the  ivied  cliff  made  a 
cushioned  back  to  their  hard  sofa,  and  where  a  little 
streamlet,  leaping  into  a  miniature  pool,  shed  abroad  a 
pleasant  noise  of  falhng  waters  and  drowned  their 
whispered  love-talk  —  unless,  which  after  all  was  possible, 
speaking  hps  and  hearing  ear  were  very  close  together 
indeed. 

Here  they  talked  of  all  things,  talked  and  talked  with 
lapses  and  occasions,  hourlong  whisperings  of  utmost 
content  and  rapturous  discoveries  of  new  similarities  in 
liking,  and  undreamed-of  unities  of  taste.  Once  a 
rabbit  ran  almost  to  their  feet,  and  then  because  they 
sat  so  still,  began  to  nibble  at  the  short  grass  by  the 
waterfall,  watching  them  all  the  while  out  of  one  mild 
and  furtive  eye. 

"  Carus,"  the  voice  of  Hester  was  speaking  very  low 
and  excellent,  "  I  think  you  ought  to  go  and  tell  Lady 
Niddisdale.      She  was  very  kind  to  me." 

"  Dearest,  so  I  shall  —  so  I  must.  All  in  good  time 
—  but  not  yet.  Why,  I  have  just  found  you.  I  have 
had  you  such  a  short  time.  I  cannot  give  you  up 
yet !  " 

"  But  it  is  not  giving  me  up,  Carus."  Hester's  voice 
was  a  little    stronger   now.      *' Listen,  dear  —  you   will 

372 


L  O  V  E'  S     G  O  r.  D  E  N     WEATHER 

come  back.      You  will  have  to  come  back  very  soon,  for 
I  cannot  do  without  you  —  noiv  !  " 

"  It  will  never  be  quite  the  same  again,"  said  Carus, 
prescient  beyond  his  years. 

"  It  will  be  sweeter  ! "  said  Hester,  also  prophetic. 

"  Yes,  but  not  the  same  !  It  can  never  be  the  first  time 
again.  Why,  it  seems  only  a  day  since  I  saw  you  sitting  by 
the  side  of  the  burn  with  your  hair  blowing  in  the  wind." 

"That  was  very  bad  of  me  —  I  don't  know  how  I 
could  ever  look  you  in  the  face  !  " 

"Well,  I  can  imagine  worse  things  —  and  better!" 
said  Carus,  "  but  tell  me,  dear,  what  you  were  thinking 
about  as  you  sat  there  !  " 

And  so,  of  course,  Hester  told  him,  and  they  told  it 
each  other  again  and  yet  again.  Then  Carus  retailed 
stories  of  travel  and  of  college  which  always  came  to 
an  untimely  end  when  Hester  said,  with  a  little  sigh, 
"  Now  tell  me  about  the  very  first  time  that  you  knew 
you  loved*  me —  tell  me  all  about  it,  from  the  beginning, 
and  don  't  skip." 

And  after  awhile  Hester  would  sigh  again,  and  Carus 
stay  his  narration  long  enough  to  say,  "  Why  do  you 
sigh,  little  woman  ?  " 

And  to  this  as  regularly  Hester  would  answer, 
"  Because  it  is  getting  so  nearly  done  !  " 

But  when  at  last  the  westering  unresting  sun,  jealous 
that,  all  companionlcss,  he  must  traverse  the  blue  arch, 
hunted  them  out  of  their  shady  nook,  Hester  would  rise 
and  say,  "We  must  go  home — Mcgsv  will  be  waiting 
for  us  !  " 

"Just  a  moment — just  one!"  C'arus  would  pK'ad, 
detaining  her. 

"  Eor  shame,  ccjimcjrant  !  "  Hester  would  answer, 
reproachfully,  "you  ought  to  be  ashamed." 

373 


LOVE'S  GOLDEN  WEATHER 

Yet,  nevertheless  she  would  relent,  treachery  being 
within  the  gates,  and  yet  awhile  they  would  tarry  as  the 
sun  whirled  horizonwards,  more  red  and  angry  than 
before. 

Then,  at  last,  very  soberly  and  with  a  wondrous  still- 
ness of  happiness  in  their  hearts,  Carus  and  Hester  would 
walk  homeward  in  the  deep  hush  of  late  afternoon,  the 
sheep  bleating  on  the  far  slopes  and  the  nesting  cries 
of  the  moor-birds  sounding  wistful  and  far  off,  like 
plaintive  music  heard  in  dreams.  At  this  time  they 
would  not  speak  much.  They  would  not  even  look  at 
each  other,  till,  with  a  waft  of  peat  smoke  or  sharper 
tang  of  burning  birch,  they  came  suddenly  upon  Megsy 
and  the  house  of  Anders  in  the  lee  of  Bennanbrack. 

"  Kiss  Megsy  —  /(?<?,"  Hester  would  say,  an  unconscious 
tell-tale.  "  Have  you  been  very  lonely  ?  Do  you  know, 
Megsy,  I  think  he  is  nicer  than  ever.  And,  oh,  he 
thinks  I  am  prettier,  and  I  love  him  far  better  than  I 
did  yesterday  !  " 

"  God  keep  it  ever  thus  atween  ye,  bairns  !  "  Megsy 
would  answer  as  she  turned  within  to  fill  the  tea  out 
of  the  little  brown  caddy  into  the  earthenware  pot. 
And  a  tear  glistened  in  her  eye  unseen  for  that  other 
Hester,  who  also  had  staked  her  all  on  love,  and  had 
gotten  so  little  happiness  out  of  it. 

"  The  Lord  gie  to  this  my  bairn  the  better  part !  " 
murmured  Megsy. 


374 


CHAPTER   XLV 

WAYS    AND    MEANS 

AS  slowly  as  the  long  ages  of  Asunder  lag  toward 
the  brief  day  of  Together,  even  so  swiftly  posted 
the  day  of  Together  toward  the  bitter  night  of 
Parting. 

Meanwhile  the  summer  was  high  on  the  earth,  and 
after  the  nesting  gladness  the  birds  suddenly  fell  silent, 
as  is  their  custom.  Only  the  lambs'  bleating  was  heard 
on  the  hills,  or,  more  rarely,  the  deeper  mother  cry 
of  the  ewe  as  she  called  her  own  to  her.  And  Hester 
clapped  hands  to  see  the  young  white  thing  run 
skipping  to  her  dam  and  bunch  itself  lustily  against 
her   full   ixlder. 

Carus  made  many  plans  sitting  at  the  feet  of  his 
love.  She  let  her  hand  stray  among  his  curls  as  he 
gazed  out  over  those  crimsoning  leagues  of  heather- 
lands.  She  liked  to  watch  him  thus.  He  looked  so 
masterful,  as  if  he  could  assuredly  bring  to  pass  that 
thing  which  was  in  his  heart.  And  indeed  it  is  the 
men  whose  faces  unconsciously  firm  themselves  in  the 
front  of  overfrowning  opposition,  who  reckon  difficulties 
only  as  things  to  be  overcome,  that  in  the  end  go 
far.  And  Carus,  with  this  love  in  his  heart,  was  one 
of  these. 

Some  day,  no  doubt  (so  he  meditated  half  to  Hester, 
half  to  clear  his  own  thoughts),  he  would  succeed  his 
father  and  be  a  lord.  But  he  had  no  intention  of  shut- 
ting  out    certain    honest    ways    of  earning    a    livelihood 

375 


WAYS     AND     MEANS 

on  that  account.  He  would  be  a  lawyer  if  he  had  the 
brains  —  he  was  already  making  a  good  deal  one  way 
and  another  by  his  writing.  The  editor  of  The 
Trafalgar  Square^  that  most  discriminating  magazine, 
had  accepted  his  last  short  story  and  written  him  a 
request   for  more. 

But  in  a  week  (in  spite  of  her  brave  advice  Hester 
sighed  involuntarily);  yes,  so  soon  my  Lady  Niddis- 
dale  would  be  at  the  Castle,  and  thither  he  must  go 
and  lay  the  whole  case  before  her.  He  did  not  think 
of  communicating  with  his  father.  He  had  resolved 
to  accept  nothing  further  from  him.  If  he  could  — 
if  there  were  enough  of  manhood  in  him  —  he  would 
make  Hester's  way  and  his  own.  If  his  grandmother 
proved  kind,  so  much  the  better.  Who  were  they  that 
they  should  decline  the  gifts  of  the  gods  ?  Besides 
which,  if  they  did  not  take  the  money,  Kipford  would 
soon  make  ducks  and  drakes  of  it — -and  more  ducks 
than  drakes,  added  Carus,  somewhat  ungenerously. 

But  for  all  that  he  did  not  intend  to  be  a  useless 
man,  or  dependent  upon  any  one.  And  Hester  would 
be  his  little  helper.  They  could  be  happy,  even  if 
they  had  but  two  rooms  and  a  kitchen,  as  at  the  Buss- 
o'-Bield. 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  lovely  !  "  cried  Hester,  with  a 
little  gasp  at  the  thought.  The  sense  of  being  left 
alone  with  Carus  for  always  had  not  come  home  to  her 
so  strongly  before.  The  thought  made  her  heart  quake 
within  her  with  most  delicious  fear. 

"  Two  rooms  and  a  kitchen  !  "  she  murmured  over 
and  over  to  herself — "Oh!" 

The  signification  of  the  closing  ejaculation  is  obscure. 
The  tale-teller  can  only  report  the  facts. 

Carus  felt  that  the  time  had  come  to  strike  the 
376 


WAYS     AND     MEANS 

glowing  iron.  But  Hester's  lingers  gripped  his  curls 
quite  recklessly,  and  Carus  was  made  to  understand 
things  that  are  often  hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent. 

"And,  Hester  dear "      He  tried  to  twist  about, 

but  the  hand  in  his  locks  held  him  lirm.  "  1  want  to 
speak  to  you ." 

"  I  hear." 


"  But  let  me  speak  to  you " 

"  Speak  on." 

"It  isn't  fair,  Hester.  I  can't  say  what  I've  got  to 
say  sitting  this  way.  But  (hypocritically),  after  all,  it 
doesn't  matter,  if  you  don't  care  to  hear.  What  a  lot 
of  lambs  there  are  on  the  Rig  to-day  —  the  herds  must 
have  been  '  gathering  '  somewhere  !  " 

"  Bother  the  herds,"  cried  Hester,  "  don't  tease  me, 
Carus.     Tell  me  what  you  were  going  to  say  — quick  !  " 

"  But  you  don't  want  to  hear !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  —  there  !  " 

Carus,  freed  from  restraint,  turned  about  without 
rising  from  the  short  bull's  fell  heather.  He  was 
kneeling  before   Hester  now. 

"  Dear,"  he  said,  softly,  "  if  you  are  willing  to  risk 
it,  why  should  we  wait  ?  I  can  work,  and  it  will  be 
good  for  me  as  well  to  have  to  do  it.  Marry  me  this 
autumn,  and  we  will  fight  it  out  together  in  London 
during  the  winter.      Are  you  afraid,  little  Hester?  " 

"  Oh  no,  I  am  not  afraid  !  " 

"  Must  I  go  away  till  you  learn  to  love  me  better  ?  " 

(Cruel  Carus,  well  he  knew.) 

Hester  gave  vent  to  a  little  gasping  sob,  and  clutched 
him  instinctively  about  the  neck. 

*'  Oh,  I  cannot  live  without  you  now,  Carus  !  You 
have  made  me  love  you  so  !      I  will  do  as  you  say " 

"  IVhen  I  say  ?  " 

377 


WAYS     AND     MEANS 

"  Oh,  Carus,  let  me  ask  Revvie  first  —  I  could  not, 
unless  Revvie  wished  it.  He  has  done  so  much  for  me, 
and  he  is  so  lonely  !  " 

"  And  will  you  do  it  when  I  say,  if  Revvie  is  willing  ?" 

"  I  will  !  "  said  Hester,  with  a  little  gasp  of  deter- 
mination  like  a  timid  bather  at  the  cold   plunge. 

"  Signed,  sealed  —  and  delivered  ! "  cried  Carus,  kiss- 
ing her  triumphantly. 


378 


CHAPTER   XLVI 
A   MASTERFUL   YOUNG    MAN 

THE  Reverend  Anthony  Borrowman  sat  in  his 
study  with  the  window  open,  though  it  was 
after  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  It  had  been 
a  splendid  summer's  day,  and  the  last  red  of  the  sunset 
still  lingered  along  the  rims  of  the  hills  of  Kells.  A  soft 
mist  lay  faintly  purple  along  the  river,  darkening  rapidly 
into  indigo  where  it  trespassed  on  the  gloomy  fringes  of 
the  Darroch  woods.  To  him  enter  an  impetuous  young 
man  who  had  ridden  fast  and  far. 

"  Why,  Carus  Darroch,"  cried  the  minister,  drop- 
ping his  book,  "  what  do  you  here  ?  I  thought  you 
were  in  London,  getting  ready  to  be  my  Lord 
Chancellor !  " 

"I  am  on  my  way  to  London  —  I  have  come  over 
from  Knockdon  on  purpose  to  see  you  ! "  cried  this 
impetuous  young   man. 

"To  see  me,"  repeated  the  minister,  and  then  as  if 
the  place  had  struck  him,  "from  Knockdon?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Carus,  "  I  walked  into  Moniaive  and  got 
a  horse  of  sorts.  Then  I  rode  over  to  see  you.  I  am 
going  to  marry  Hester,  and  I  have  come  to  ask  you  if  I 
may  !  " 

"Carus,"  said  Mr.  Borrowman,  holding  up  his  hands 
in  deprecation,  "  h(;w  often  am  I  to  tell  you  not  to 
include  two  irreconcilable  propositions  in  one  sentence. 
If  you  are  going  to  marry  Hester  (as  without  any 
deduction   of  any  kind  y(ni   declare   it   your  intention  to 

379 


A     MASTERFUL     YOUNG     MAN 

do),  then  it  is  not  the  least  use  coming  over  to  me  to 
ask  my  permission,  even  if  I  had  a  right  to  withhold  it 
or  to  give  such  permission." 

"  Oh  yes,"  cried  Carus,  upon  whom  this  finesse  was 
thrown  away,  "  it  does  matter  —  to  Hester.  She  says 
she  will  not  marry  me  unless  you  give  your  consent." 

"Your  propositions  are  more  irreconcilable  than  ever," 
said  Mr.  Borrowman,  gravely.  "Sit  down,  Carus,  and  I 
will  prove  it  to  you.     In  the  first  place " 

"  But  may  I  ?  "  said  this  straightforward  young  man, 
who  had  not  ridden  all  the  way  from  Moniaive,  after 
having  said  "  Good  night  "  to  Hester  on  the  Rig  of 
Bennanbrack,  merely  to  receive  a  lesson  in  logic. 

"  May  you  what  ?  " 

"  May  I  marry  Hester  ?  " 

"  I  presume  you  have  already  asked  your  father's  per- 
mission and  obtained  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Carus,  unabashed.  "  You  see,  sir,  it  is 
not  the  least  use  doing  that.  He  ordered  me  out  of  his 
sight  the  last  time  I  spoke  to  him.  He  will  not  give  me 
anything  to  live  on " 

"  So  you  bethought  yourself  of  taking  to  you  another 
fool,  a  pretty  one,  to  help  you  to  live  on  nothing!"  cried 
the  minister,  clapping  his  hands,  "  and  you  said  to  your- 
self, '  No  use  asking  my  father's  consent  —  must  ask 
somebody's  —  let 's  ask  old  Anthony  Borrowman's  ! '  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  said  Carus,  eagerly,  manfully  abjuring 
dialectic  and  sticking  to  his  point,  "  I  did  not  want  to 
ask  you  —  it  was  Hester." 

The  minister's  eyes  softened  and  the  humour  died  out. 

"  It  was  like  her,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  the  bird  that 
came  into  the  old  manse  in  the  bitter  winter  weather 
must  surely  fly  away  with  a  mate  in  the  spring  !  " 

"  Then  I  may  —  ?  "  said  Carus.  He  knew  what  he 
380 


A     MASTERFUL     YOUNG     MAN 

wanted,  this  voung  man,  which  in  lite  is  the  next  thing 
to  getting  it. 

"  I  have  seen  it  coming,"  said  the  minister,  getting 
up,  "  I  saw  it  when  I  came  to  London,  when  I  knew 
that  she  had  first  thought  of  you,  when  that " 

"  Never  mind  about  him  now,  sir,"  said  Carus,  "just 
tell  me  that  you  are  pleased  —  and  will  marry  us  — 
soon  ! 

But  it  was  not  Mr.  Borrowman's  way  to  do  anything 
without  qualification. 

"  I  would  rather  trust  her  to  you  than  to  anybody 
else,"  said  the  minister,  "  if  it  must  be,  it  must  be.  I 
am  not  a  man  to  lift  up  ineffectual  hands.  But  why 
not  be  content  as  you  are  ?  —  look  at  me  !  " 

"  When  vou  were  as  young  as  Hester  and  I,  I  have 
heard  tell  that  you " 

This  was  carrying  the  war  into  the  enemy's  camp. 

"  Tut  —  tut  —  tut,"  said  the  minister,  hastily,  getting 
up  and  walking  about,  "mere  country-side  clatter  —  idle 
clashes  —  I  wonder  you  pay  any  attention  to  it.      If  that 

gossiping  old   hussy,  Megsy But   I  can  see  that 

you  have  been  using  your  time,  sirrah.  How  long  have 
you  been  going  every  day  to  the  Rig  of  Bennanbrack  ?  " 

"  About  six  weeks,  sir  !  " 

"Alas,  poor  human  nature  —  my  last  idol  is  shat- 
tered !  "  cried  Mr.  Borrowman,  "and  I  have  been  there 
every  several  Monday,  and  not  a  soul  has  ever  said  a 
word  to  me  about  it." 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  think  it  was  Hester's  fault, 
sir?"   said   Carus,  smiling. 

"Hester — Hester,"  cried  Mr.  Borrowman,  demon- 
strating in  the  air  with  his  hands,  "everything  is  Hester! 
As  if  the  whole  world  must  come  to  an  end  because  an 
ungrateful   vouiiii:  hussy  has  made  up  htr  mind  to  desert 

3S' 


A     MASTERFUL     YOUNG     MAN 

the  only  tried  friends  she  has  in  the  world,  in  order  to 
go  ofF  with  a  young  man  of  whom  she  knows  nothing 
at  all !  " 

"  You  can  acquire  a  good  deal  of  knowledge  in  six 
weeks,"  said  Carus,  smiling,  and  realising  that  the  battle 
was  won.  "  Then  you  will  marry  us,  sir  ?  I  may  tell 
Hester  that  ?     When  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  You  can  settle  that  with  the  young  woman," 
growled  Mr.  Anthony  Borrowman,  "  I  am  minister  of 
this  parish,  and  cannot  refuse  to  marry  any  pair  against 
whom  no  legal  disabilities  can  be  alleged.  You  are  quite 
sure,  Carus,  that  you  have  no  other  wives  living  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  sir  !  "  smiled  Carus,  "  unless  I  married 
them  in  my  sleep." 

"  And  that  Hester  is  either  a  spinster  or  a  widow  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  two,  sir  !  " 

"  Then  that  is  all  I  have  a  right  to  ask.  I  am  at 
your  service  —  for  a  consideration.  You  are  both  of 
legal  age,  as  a  glance  at  the  baptismal  records  will 
show.  The  usual  fee  is  a  white  silk  handkerchief  and 
a  piece  of  the  wedding  cake,  warranted  deadly  at  any 
distance  under  fifty  paces.  Sometimes,  but  rarely,  it 
runs  to  an  umbrella." 

"  Good  night,  sir,"  said  Carus,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  Why,  what  is  your  hurry  —  you  are  not  going  back 
to  the  Rig  of  Bennanbrack  to-night  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Carus,  "  I  am  going  to  ride  over 
to  Niddisdale  Castle,  to  see  my  grandmother.  Lady 
Niddisdale  !  " 

"To-night — nonsense,  nonsense!"  cried  the  minis- 
ter. "  Why  it 's  twenty-four  miles  if  it  is  an  inch  ! 
Wait  till  to-morrow  !  I  can  put  you  up.  You  shall 
have  Hester's  room.  I  will  correct  your  syllogisms 
for  you  !  " 

382 


A     MASTERFUL     YOUNG     iMAN 

"I  am  sorry  I  cannot,  sir;  I  made  arrangements 
with  the  hostler  at  Moniaive  to  have  another  horse 
ready   for  me  ! 

"  Then  vou  took  my  sanction  for  granted  ?  " 

"  I    am     afraid     I     did,    sir  !      But    you    see     Hester 

insisted " 

The  minister  flung  up  his  hands  in  a  gesture  of 
despair. 

"Well,  of  all  the  impenitent  young  jackanapes  !  " 
But  the  rest  of  the  sentence  was  drowned  in   a  clatter 
of  horse's  hoofs,  through  which  rang,  clear  as  a  bugle- 
call,  the  cheery  "  Good  night  "  of  that  masterful  young 
man,  Carus,  Master  of  Darroch. 


3^3 


CHAPTER   XLVII 

A    FOOLISH    CHAPTER,   AND    THE    WISDOM    OF    IT 

IT  was  a  very  tired  beast  bestridden  by  a  young  man, 
a  little  white  about  the  nostrils,  that  turned  up  the 
long  avenue  to  Niddisdale  Castle,  very  early  next 
morning.  So  tired  was  the  horse  indeed  that  Carus  dis- 
mounted and,  at  the  first  forking  of  the  road,  led  the 
animal  towards  the  stables.  In  order  to  reach  the  main 
courtyard,  where  the  clock  was,  he  had  to  pass  an  angle 
of  the  garden  wall.  A  door  stood  open  here,  and  Carus 
heard  himself  greeted  through  it  by  name.  He  turned 
about,  and  there,  quite  without  attendant,  her  red 
flannel  dressing-gown  girt  with  a  purple  sash,  rotund 
and  comfortable,  a  shawl  upon  her  head,  wooden  clogs 
of  the  country  on  her  feet,  with  the  straw  peeping  out 
all  about  the  instep,  he  beheld  her  Grace  the  Duchess 
of  Niddisdale. 

"  Will  your  beast  stand,  Carus  ? "  she  called  out  to 
him,  without  any  apparent  surprise. 

"Yes,  granny  —  that  is,  if  he  does  not  fall  down. 
Hold  on  a  moment,  and  I  will  lean  him  up  against  the 
wall !  " 

And  letting  go  the  bridle,  Carus  rushed  to  give  his 
relative  a  filial  hug,  instantly  letting  go  again  with  a 
little  groan  and  a  shake  of  his  fingers. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  her  Grace,  smiling,  "  it  is 
rather  like  embracing  a  joiner's  tool-bag !  But  the 
truth  is,  these  beasts  of  gardeners  are  so  dreadfully 
scientific,  that    if  I   did   not  go   about   mending  things, 

384 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

boring  holes,  putting  in  nails,  and  looping  up  tags,  the 
whole  place  would  go  to  rack  and  ruin.  Was  that  a 
gimlet  vou  felt,  Carus,  or  a  pruning  knife.  I  usually 
carry  one  open  for  convenience  !  " 

"  I  don't   know,  grandmother,"   said   Carus,  rubbing 
his    wrist,    "  I     am    really    quite     indifferent    which     it 


was 


I  " 


"  That  will  teach  you  not  to  put  vour  arm  promiscu- 
ously about  young  women,"  said  the  Duchess,  thrusting 
long  tin-tacks  freely  into  her  mouth  and  picking  them 
out  one  by  one  as  she  needed  them,  to  nail  a  strip  of 
matting  to  a  wall,  "  it  is  a  pity  (tap-tap-tap)  that  a  lady 
cannot  get  up  to  earn  an  honest  livelihood  betimes  in 
the  morning  (tap-tap)  without  being  assaulted  by  wild 
Mohocks  returning  home  from  some  scene  of  midnight 
dissipation  —  Carus  Darroch,  I  have  just  remembered. 
You  are  not  staying  at  the  Castle.  Where  have  you 
been  ?      Answer  me  this  moment,  sir  !  " 

"  Grandmother,  dear,  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I 
am  going  to  be  married  !  " 

"  And  looking  like  a  death's  head  about  it !  —  Is  it 
anything  disgraceful,  sir  ?  " 

"Oh,  no,  gran,"  said  Carus,  eagerly,  "of  course  not. 
And  I  want  vou  to  help  me  out  with  it,  like  a  good  dear 
old  sweetheart  as  you  are  !  " 

"  I  was  waiting  for  that.  Hcnv  much  ? "  said  the 
Duchess,  brutallv. 

"  It  is  n't  moncv,  gran,"  said  Carus  ;  "  at  least,  not 
chiefly.  I  want  you  to  back  mc  up,  you  know  —  come 
to  the  wedding " 

"I  see  —  wanted,  respectable,  middle-aged  lady  of 
rank  —  her  very  presence  a  certificate  of  character  any- 
where. You  have  come  to  the  wrong  shop,  lad.  Better 
ask  your  uncle  Niddisdale.      That  is  more  in  his  line  — 

^s  38s 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

beauty  in  distress,  and  family  lawyer  all  complete. 
Characters  repaired  while  you  wait." 

Her  Grace  had  not  forgiven  the  fact  that  she  had 
been  entirely  left  out  of  the  proceedings  in  the  case  of 
the  ruby  necklace. 

"You  will,  then,  gran  dear?"  This  pleadingly,  in 
what  his  relative  used  to  call  his  "  sugar-plum  "  voice. 

"Hands  ofF;  that's  where  I  keep  my  screwnails. 
Before  I  make  any  rash  promises  tell  me  two  things, 
young  Master !      Is  it  Ethel  Torphichan  ?  " 

"  God  forbid  !  "  cried  Carus,  heartily. 

"  Does  your  father  approve  ?  " 

"I  never  asked  him,"  said  Carus,  promptly;  "and 
what 's  more,  I  '11  see  him  far  enough  before  I  do  !  " 

Her  Grace  dropped  everything  on  the  ground,  ham- 
mer, nails  and  all. 

"Then  count  on  me,  dear  boy,"  she  cried.  "Wait 
till  I  get  this  tack  out  before  you  kiss  me,  though. 
There  !  There !  There  !  It 's  my  little  Hester  of 
course !  Oh,  you  foolish  improvident  boy.  I  shall  read 
you  such  a  lecture  presently  !  " 

"Of  course;  who  else  could  it  be?  "  said  the  youth, 
scornfully. 

"That  loses  Jim  Chetwynd  about  fifty  pounds,"  she 
said.  "  Not  so  heavy  on  mv  left  side  —  that 's  where  the 
big  tenpenny  nails  are,  for  the  wall-fruit — pocket  on 
the  inside  of  the  dressing-gown.  Be  good  enough  to 
curb  your  emotion  and  bear  in  mind  that  I  have  no 
corsets  on.  You  need  not  blush,  Carus,  some  things 
will  come  to  you  in  time,  with  the  general  spread  of 
education.  In  the  mean  time,  pray  go  easy.  Stay  me 
with  gimlets,  comfort  me  with  bradawls,  for  I  am  sick 
of  love  and  lovers  !  Carus,  I  shall  have  to  caution  you 
against  irreverence.     It  is  specially  out  of  place  in  the 

386 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

presence  of  the  aged.  And  now,  sir,  where  have  you 
been  making  love  to  little  Hester  all  this  while  i"  If 
you  are  not  already  married  and  trying  to  break  it  to 
me,  I  am  mistaken,  also  disappointed  !  Is  the  little 
fraudful  minx  round  the  corner  there,  waiting  behind  a 
tree  till  Demogorgon  is  appeased  ?  " 

"  On  my  honour,  no,  gran  !  " 

"'At  lovers'  perjuries,'  you  know,  Carus,  but  I'll 
forgive  vou  this  time.  It 's  not  so  bad  as  I  expected, 
and — ah  —  hoped.  You  are  partly  your  mother's  son, 
Carus,  after  all.  Poor  Sophia !  Well,  where  have  you 
hidden  your  little  Hester  ?  " 

It  was  seven  of  the  clock  when  Carus  the  Rapid 
departed  from  Niddisdale  Castle,  carrying  with  him 
his  grandmother's  very  unconventional  blessing,  and  in 
his  breast-pocket  a  cheque  of  exceedingly  comfortable 
potentiality. 

He  had  also  annexed  a  fine  hunter  of  Kipford's,  and 
he   had  left  behind   him  a  note  to  his  ex-fag,  beginning, 

"Dear  Waffles.  —  I 've  taken  Sybil.  Don't  get  in 
a  wax.  It's  no  use.  I'll  send  her  back  all  right.  I'm 
going  to  marry  Hester  Stirling,  and  be  hanged  to  them 
all.  Give  mc  your  blessing  and  come  to  the  wedding. 
You  are  to  be  best  man  —  second  week  in  September, 
I    hope  —  third    I    fear  —  last    if    no    better     may    be. 

"  Yours,  Carus." 

On  the  Rig  <jf  Ik-nnanbrack  Hester  had  passed  a  most 
unhappy  morning.  By  eight  o'clock  she  was  looking 
out  for  him.  Though  both  Mcgsy  and  her  own  good 
sense  told  her  that  he  could  not  possibly  arrive  till  nine, 
she  walked  up  and  down  the  beech  hedge  at  least  over 
one  hundred  times  each   way.      At  that  hour  there  was 

3-^7 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

still  no  sign  of  him,  and  they  sat  down  to  a  joyless  break- 
fast. Hester  could  eat  nothing,  and  moped  with  a  face 
"  as  long  as  a  fiddle,"  as  Megsy  told  her  more  than  once. 

At  ten  there  were  premonitions  of  rainy  weather  on 
Hester's  countenance,  and  she  could  not  be  brought  in 
from  the  door  on  any  pretext.  She  had  seen  him  at 
least  a  dozen  times  on  the  skyline,  and  as  often  she  had 
found  that  it  was  only  an  erect  boulder  or  a  browsing 
sheep  topping  the  rise. 

At  eleven  precisely,  Hester  came  in  and  flung  herself 
hopelessly  down  on  her  bed.  She  was  sobbing  freely 
now,  and  when  Megsy  came  to  her  with  doctrine  and 
reproof  she  burst  out,  "  Oh,  you  do  not  know  him  as  I 
do;  he  would  have  been  here  long  ago  if  all  had  been 
well.  Something  terrible  has  happened.  I  know  it  has  ! 
Don't  say  it  has  n't,  Megsy.  It  is  very  cruel  of  you, 
when  you  know  in  your  heart  —  (sobs).  Oh,  he  never 
did  this  before  !  " 

"  He  must  have  fallen  into  a  sheep-drain,"  said 
Megsy,  trying  to  arouse  Hester,  by  a  fine  irony,  to  a 
sense  of  the  folly  of  her  conduct;  "there  are  some  of 
them  on  the  moor  quite  three  feet  deep !  " 

"  Oh,  Megsy,"  Hester  had  caught  this  Job's  com- 
forter by  the  arm,  "  do  you  really  think  so  ?  I  know  he 
has  caught  his  foot  in  one,  and  fallen  and  hurt  himself. 
Perhaps  his  head  !  I  will  go  and  look  for  him.  Don't 
try  to  keep  me,  Megsy  —  I  will,  I  must !  " 

For  that  was  the  way  love  had  come  to  our  heart- 
hungry  impulsive  Hester  —  as  indeed  all  who  had  known 
her  from  a  child  knew  that  it  was  bound  to  come. 

So  for  two  hours  and  a  half  Hester,  pathetically 
watched  over  by  Megsy,  wandered  over  Bennanbrack, 
looking  vainly  for  any  trace  of  Carus,  till  the  blue  vault 
above   wavered    and   dissolved  into  whirling   mists,   and 

388 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

she  stumbled  blindlv  back,  to  sit  down  and  stare  at  the 
blank  wall  of  her  room,  dumb,  dry-eyed,  desolate  —  not 
even  that  Rachel,  who  in  Ramah  refused  to  be  com- 
forted, more  tragically  afflicted. 

There  was  no  pretence  of  mid-day  dinner  that  noon- 
tide. Megsy  had  taken  refuge  in  her  old  woman's 
belief  that  time,  the  ancient  heal-all,  would  cure  this 
also.  She  went  about  polishing  brasses,  black-leading 
iron,  and  sweeping  up  the  floor,  while  Hester,  in  the 
pauses  of  her  pictured  tragedies,  thought  her  hard- 
hearted. After  all,  Megsy  did  not  know.  She  did  not 
understand.  Unhappy  Megsy,  never  to  know  what  it 
was  to  be  really,  really  miserable  ! 

Then  when  at  two  o'clock  quick  feet  were  heard 
without,  and  through  the  open  door  Carus  came  striding 
in,  bright  of  face,  if  somewhat  purple-ringed  of  eye,  and 
held  out  his  arms,  Hester  turned  upon  him  with  a  chill 
and  vacant  gaze. 

"  Oh,  vcru  don't  love  me,  or  you  would  never  have 
treated  me  like  this  !  " 

"  My  dear,  my  dear,  what  is  it  ?  " 

*■'■  Not  to  come,  never  to  send  any  word,  not  to  tell  me 
last  night !  " 

"  Hester,  dear,  how  could  I  ?     Whom  had  I  to  send  ? 

Rut "  he  threw   himself   on   his   knees   before   her 

chair,  and  clasped  her  slender  rounded  form  in  his  arms, 
heedless  of  Megsy,  "  listen,  Hester;  1  have  never  slept 
or  lain  down  since  I  saw  you.  We  are  to  be  married 
in  the  second  week  of  September.  Rcvvie  is  to  many 
us,  my  grandmother  is  coming  to  the  wedding,  and, 
look  at  this  [he  flashed  a  blue  slip  of  paper  from  his 
pocket],  here  is  a  cheque  f(jr  a  thousand  pounds  !  " 

Then  Hester  disgraced  herself.  She  said  afterwards 
that  it  was  the  cheque  that  did  it.      Dining  the  last   mo- 

3«9 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

ments  Megsy  had  discreetly  slipped  out,  but  when  she 
heard  Hester  laughing  strangely  she  almost  ran  back. 

"Stop,  bairn,"  she  cried,  "  dinna,  dinna  !  Do  ye 
hear  me  biddin'  ye?" 

But  Hester  only  laughed  the  more,  looking  up  help- 
lessly at  Megsy,  and  indicating  the  alarmed  Carus  with 
her  finger. 

"I  can't  stop,  indeed  I  can't!"  she  gasped  between 
the  ringing  peals,  still  pointing  her  finger  at  Carus,  "  he 
made  me.  Oh,  Carus,  stop  me !  It  was  so  funny ! 
Ha-ha-ha !  " 

Then  with  a  rush  came  the  tears,  heart-breaking  and 
desperate,  and  through  them  her  eyes  still  laughed,  and 
her  body  shook.  Carus  was  infinitely  pained.  He  had 
much  to  learn,  and  was  in  the  way  of  learning  it,  too. 
The  way  of  a  man  with  a  maid  such  as  Hester  is  a  long, 
long  way.  It  has  many  turnings,  and  they  who  think 
they  know   it  best  know  least. 

"  Oh,  he  does  not  love  me,"  she  sobbed ;  "  he  keeps 
me  waiting  till  I  think  he  must  be  dead,  and  then  he 
comes  and  shows  me  a  cheque  for  a  thousand  pounds !  " 

And  again  she  laughed  helplessly,  signalling  feebly 
for  them  to  stop  her.  But  that  was  far  beyond  their 
powers.  Till  Carus,  who  had  been  on  horseback  all 
night  and  gone  through  many  things,  being  sick  with 
disappointment  and  the  lack  of  the  welcome  he  had 
anticipated  every  mile  of  the  long  backward  way,  sud- 
denly put  his  head  on  his  hand,  and  a  great  dry  sob 
shook  his  frame.  After  a  long  moment  there  came 
another,  and  yet  another.  Megsy,  the  wise  woman, 
went  out.  Hester  instantly  stopped  her  own  crying  and 
sat  up.  This  was  utterly  unprecedented.  She  recog- 
nised in  the  sound  something  that,  if  allowed  to  gather 
way,  would  be  as  wine  to  her  water. 

39° 


A     FOOLISH     CHAPTER 

"  Don't,  darling,  don't  !  "  she  cried,  laying  her  hand 
on   his  shoulder. 

But  again  it  came,  as  it  seemed,  rending  his  very 
bodily  frame.  "Oh,  don't,  if  you  love  me,  Carus,  don't 
do  that  !  " 

Again  ! 

"  I  '11  be  good  —  yes,  yes,  I  will,  I  am  horribly  ashamed 
of  myself.  I  was  so  frightened  about  you.  It  was  so 
silly,  but  I  could  not  help  it." 

She  kneeled  to  him,  and  put  her  lips  up  to  his. 

"Kiss  me,  Carus,"  she  whispered;  "it  shall  be  the 
firit  week  in  September,  if  you  will  only  stop  !  " 

And  Carus  stopped. 


39' 


CHAPTER   XLVIII 

THE    MAN    WHO    HAD    BEEN    IN    HELL 

"  "^  T'ES,  it  was  about  one  chance  in  a  million,  but  1 
II  managed  to  get  word  out  of  the  prison  to  Yule, 
-^  Two-Rupee  Yule,  you  know,  the  secretary  of 
the  Burmese  British  Mission,  and  he  compelled  the  King 
to  let  me  go  —  upon  threats  that  he  could  not  have 
carried  out !  " 

It  was  a  curious  yellowish-grey  man  with  oriental 
eyes,  bushy  white  eyebrows,  and  a  face  drawn  and 
lined  horizontally  as  if  it  had  been  bound  about  the 
temples  with  whip-cord,  who  was  telling  his  tale  in  the 
dingy  den  in  Lincoln's  Inn,  where  the  best  criminal 
lawyer's  business  in  London  was  done. 

"Why  'Two-Rupee'  Yule?"  asked  Jim  Chetwynd, 
who  was  toying  with  a  paper-knife. 

The  wizened  man  laughed  a  little,  as  at  a  reminis- 
cence which  pleased  him. 

"  It  was  the  first  thing  I  laughed  at  after  I  came 
out  of  hell !  "  he  said  with  the  grim  succinctness  that 
characterised  all  his  utterances.  "  It  happened  this 
way.  Harry  Yule  was  a  bright  young  fellow  in  the 
Engineers,  and  he  was  sent  down  to  Budaon,  to  build 
an  embankment.  He  had  Budaon  coolies,  that  is, 
Budmashes  —  arrant  scoundrels.  And  he  swore,  swore 
as  if  he  had  never  had  a  godly  Scottish  mother  and 
learned  the  catechism,  the  same  as  myself.  But  one 
day  he  had  a  smart  attack  of  fever,  and  the  devil  a 
monk   would    be.      Imprimis,    Harry  Yule    would    stop 

392 


THE   xMANWHO  HAD  BEEN   IN   HELL 

swearing.  And  to  make  sure  of  it  he  covenanted  with 
himself  that  he  should  pay  two  rupees  to  some  charity 
for  every  uncovenanted  word  he  uttered,  Budaon  coolie 
or  no  Budaon  coolie.  And  strange  to  say,  when  he  got 
well  he  kept  his  oath.  Not  that  it  stopped  his  swear- 
ing, but  that  it  docked  his  pay  !  Then,  by-and-by  the 
rupees  began  to  accumulate  and  it  was  necessary, 
thought  this  honest  Harry  Yule,  to  find  an  investment 
for  them. 

"  As  he  watched  the  press  of  struggling  thirst  about 
a  foul  shallow  horsepond,  he  thought,  '  Why  not  a 
drinking  fountain  ? '  The  water  was  at  hand.  The 
work  would  be  excellent  practice  in  his  profession. 
The  Budaon  coolie  should  drink  if  he  would  not  wash, 
the  Budaon  maiden  draw  water  at  will,  the  Budaon 
horse  and  the  Budaon  pariah  dog  should  all  be  pro- 
vided  for. 

"  It  was  done,  and  to  this  day  a  stately  fountain 
makes  a  centre  of  life  to  the  great  square  in  front  of 
the  mosque,  and  all  the  poor  folk  of  Budaon  worship 
the  shade  of  Two-Rupee  Yule." 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  asked  Jim  Chetwynd,  who,  while 
listening,  was  sizing  up  his  man.  He  wanted  to  know 
to  what  extent  he  could  depend  upon  him. 

"  I  asked  him,"  said  the  oriental,  "and  he  said,  'No, 
it  is  a  (qualified)  lie,  sir.  It  was  not  two  rupees  I  fined 
myself,  it  was  one  rupee  ! '  " 

"Ah,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  "that  is  a  good  story. 
But  now  as  I  have  just  one  short  half  hour  to  spare,  let 
us  talk  business.  I  have  a  letter  here  which  I  wish  you 
to  read  before  I  send  it  off!  " 

At  this  moment  a  clerk  came  in  with  a  card  in  his 
fingers.      Mr.  Chetwynd  glanced   at  it, 

"  Show  him  in  !  "  he  said,  briefly,  and  rising,  he  stood 
393 


THE   MAN  WHO  HAD   BEEN  IN   HELL 

a  little  in  the  shadow  of  the  plum-coloured  window- 
curtain.  He  wished  to  watch  the  face  of  his  visitor. 
It  was  Carus  Darroch  who  entered,  eager-hearted  as  a 
boy,  and  all  his  face  lit  up  with  happiness. 

The  yellow-skinned  stranger  seemed  almost  to  crouch 
back  upon  himself,  like  a  cat  at  the  spring.  His  hand 
moved  to  his  pocket  with  the  habitual  action  of  the 
man  who  has  always  been  armed.  But  ere  he  could 
reach  any  concealed  weapon  Jim  Chetwynd's  strong 
fingers  fell  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Let  me  introduce  you,"  he  said.  "  Carus,  this  is 
my   friend,  Mr.   David  Stirling !  " 

"  And  you  are  the  Master  of  Darroch  —  you  tried  to 
take  my  Hester  from  me !  "  The  oriental  traveller 
was  evidently  labouring  under  the  pressure  of  strong 
emotion. 

"  I  would,  indeed,"  said  Carus,  promptly  ;  "  that  is, 
if  you  are  my   Hester's  father." 

"  Her  father  ?  "  said  the  stranger,  putting  his  hand  to 
his  brow,  as  if  his  brain  was  not  clear. 

"  Certainly,"  broke  in  Jim  Chetwynd,  with  the 
strong,  clear,  incisive  tones  which  seemed  to  restore 
David  Stirling's  sanity  at  once,  "you  forget  this  is 
Lord  Darroch's  only  son,  Carus.  And  I  should  not 
wonder  if  he  has  a  certain  permission  to  ask  of  you. 
He  is  the  best  fellow  in  the  world,  and  it  was  to  his 
prompt  action  that  your  daughter  owed  everything  in 
the  shameful  matter  which  I  have  already  set  before 
you." 

David  Stirling  held  out  his  hand,  goodwill  slowly 
putting  to  flight  the  disgust  with  which  he  had  looked 
at   Carus. 

"  Come,  Stirling,"  said  Chetwynd,  "  this  will  never 
do.     You    must    not    forget    that   all    these  things   you 

394 


THE  MAN  WHO   HAD   BEEN   IN   HELL 

have  been  thinking  about  happened  more  than  twenty 
years  ago.  Carus  is  no  more  responsible  for  his  father's 
intentions  or  misdeeds  than  I  am.  And,  indeed,  he  has 
had,  as  I  understand,  no  communication  whatever  for  a 
long  time  with  Lord  Darroch  !  " 

"  You  are  the  young  man  who  wishes  to  marry  my 
daughter  Hester  ?  "  said  David. 

"  I  am,"  answered  Carus,  "though  how  you  guessed 
that  at  first  sight  is  more  than  I  can  make  out." 

"  I  did  not  guess  it.  I  was  not  thinking  of  you  or 
of  my  little  girl  either,  but  of — how  does  it  go  —  ?" 

"  Of  old,  unhappy  far-ofF  things, 
And  battles  long  ago  !  " 

"You  are  putting  off  Mr.  Stirling's  time,  Carus,  and 
what  is  worse,  you  are  wasting  mine,"  interjected  Jim 
Chetwynd  ;  "ask  your  permission,  and  be  done  with  it." 

"  I  do  ask  it,  sir,"  said  Carus,  earnestly  ;  "  I  am  very 
glad  you  have  —  ah  —  come  alive  again.  But  I  did  not 
know  Hester  had  so  many  people  whose  leave  must  be 
asked.      You  make  the  fourth." 

"  And  the  others  ?  " 

"  Have  all  said  '  yes,'  as  I  hope  you  will,  sir,"  returned 
Carus,  with  joyous  and  engaging  frankness. 

"  I  wish  you  well ;  may  the  little  one  be  happy  — 
infinitely   happier  than " 

Chetwynd  interrupted  again. 

"  I  want  you  to  hear  this  letter  I  have  written  to  the 
address  of  Sir  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling,  M.  P.  I 
have  tried  to  make  it  as  brief  and  compact  as  possible. 
Carus,  you  need  not  go,  being,  as  it  were,  already  of 
the   family'. " 

Then  Jim  Chetwynd  read  aloud  the  following  epistle 
with  a  certain  gusto  of  appreciation  : 

395 


THE  MAN  WHO   HAD  BEEN   IN   HELL 

"Sir,  —  As  legal  adviser  for  Miss  Hester  Stirling, 
beneficiary  under  the  will  of  the  late  Mrs.  Isobel 
Stirling  of  Arioland,  I  beg  to  inform  you  that  on 
the  sixth  day  of  September  next,  being  the  twenty- 
first  birthday  of  the  said  Hester  Stirling,  my  client 
and  I  will  wait  upon  you,  either  at  your  own  house 
or  at  your  lawyer's  ofHce,  as  you  shall  determine,  in 
order  that  due  account  and  reckoning  be  made  as  to  all 
the  properties  in  your  hands  belonging  to  Hester  Stirling. 
—  I  have  the  honour  to  be,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

"James  Chetwynd." 

"Shall  I  not  send  him  a  letter,  informing  him  that 
if  he  does  not  instantly  surrender  the  stolen  jewels  I 
will  have  him  branded  as  a  thief?  "  David  Stirling 
spoke  fiercely,  a  world  of  agony  long  repressed  in  his 
tone. 

"  Not  for  anything,  my  dear  sir,"  cried  Chetwynd  ; 
"  we  have  a  wily  fish  to  play  in  your  good  brother-in- 
law.  We  must  not  jerk  him.  1  see  I  must  not  let 
you  out  of  my  sight,  my   friend." 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  stay  with  you.  The  world 
hums  too  loud  and  runs  too  fast,  after  fourteen  years 
in  prison,"  said  David  Stirling,  smiling ;  "  but  I  shall  get 
used  to  it  again." 

"  And  in  the  mean  time,  Carus,  say  nothing  of  this 
to  Hester.  By  the  way,  where  have  you  hidden  that 
child  ?  " 

"  She  is  at  Niddisdale,  with  my  grandmother,  and 
they  move  in  a  mist  of  millinery.  I  had  some  things 
to  see  to,  so  they  sent  me  up  here,  as  much  to  be  out  of 
the  way  as  anything.  By  the  bye,  I  must  see  you  as  to 
settlements." 

"  Her  Grace  has  already  written  to  me  about  them. 
Tomlinson,  in  the  office,  will  give  you  any  information. 

396 


THE   MAN  WHO   HAD   BEEN   IN   HELL 

Good  morning  !  Don't  have  too  many  farewell  bachelor 
suppers.  They  are  a  mistake.  Nothing,  believe  me, 
will  cause  you  more  regret  afterwards.  They  arc 
disastrous  !  " 

David  Stirling  had  sunk  back  into  his  gloomy  isolation, 
but  when  Carus  took  his  leave  he  held  out  his  hand 
kindlv  enough. 

"  You  will  make  my  girl  happy  ?  "  he  said. 

"  I  will  try  !  I  only  want  the  chance  !  "  said  Carus, 
eagerly. 

It  was  four  days  before  an  answer  came  from  Sir 
Svlvanus  Torphichan-Stirling.      It  ran  as  follows  : 

"Sir,  —  In  reply  to  yours  of  the  iith  current,  I  beg 
to  say  that  my  responsibility  as  to  the  bequest  to  Hester 
Stirling  under  the  will  of  my  mother-in-law  begins  and 
ends  with  the  payment  of  ^2,000,  less  such  expenses  as 
I  have  incurred  in  my  capacity  of  guardian  to  this  young 
woman,  and  for  the  mutual  adjustment  of  these  —  as  I 
have  not  been  well  of  late  —  it  will  be  convenient  if 
you  or  your  representative  will  call  upon  me  at  Arioland 
House,  Galloway,  on  the  6th  day  of  September, 

"  I  am.  Sir,  Sec,  &c." 

"  Hester  can't  go  with  you  that  day,"  said  Carus, 
jealously,  "  we  are  to  be  married  on  the  6th,  It  is  her 
birthday  ;  and  so  you  must  fix  it  for  an  earlier  date, 
because  after  the  6th  we  shall  be  out  of  reach  for  some 
time." 

"  No,  Master  Carus,  no,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd.  "  Go 
and  order  your  trousseau  in  St,  James's  Street,  sir.  Let 
me  manage  this  business,  rhcrc  is  no  twelve  o'clock 
rule  and  no  hurrying  to  church  when  you  are  married 
in  Scotland.     You  will  be  tied  up  in  the  Manse,  without 

397 


THE   MAN  WHO  HAD   BEEN   IN   HELL 

any  fuss,  civil  or  ecclesiastic,  at  three  in  the  afternoon, 
and  your  grandmother  will  be  there  to  see.  So  will  I, 
James  Chetwynd,  aforesaid.  So  will  the  father  of  the 
bride  —  with  a  wedding  present;  who  knows?  In  the 
mean  time,  continue  to  say  nothing,  even  to  Hester. 
Ta-ta ! " 

And  Carus,  stunned  and  uncertain,  took  a  cab  and 
drove  to  his  tailor's  in  St.  James's  Street,  even  as  he  had 
been  told  —  for  a  man  is  only  masterful  till  he  meets 
his  master. 

"  Why  did  he  mistake  me  for  my  father,  and  why  did 
he  look  as  if  he  would  have  killed  me,  I  wonder  ?  "  he 
mused,  thinking  of  David  Stirling,  as  he  was  being 
measured  for  a  tweed  travelling  suit. 


398 


CHAPTER   XLIX 
AT   BAY 

THE  new  house  of  Arioland  sat  considerably 
higher  up  the  hill  than  the  old.  It  had  been 
built  under  the  direction  of  an  architect  of  taste 
in  the  best  style  of  Scottish  baronial.  The  first  house 
was  more  sequestered,  set  in  deep  stringently  clipped 
garden  closes,  bosomed  in  tall  trees,  cawed  over  by 
perennial  rooks.  The  new  house  was  also  built  among 
trees,  but  out  on  an  open  braeface,  where  only  a  few 
"  auld  scrunts  o'  birk "  and  "  scurry  thorns,"  gnarled 
and  twisted  by  the  wind,  broke  the  smooth  green  sweep 
of  the  turf.  Crow-stepped,  many-gabled,  far-regardant, 
the  new  Arioland  only  wanted  time  and  softening 
creepers  to  become  one  of  the  "  most  desirable  places  of 
residence "  which  could  possibly  be  advertised  in  any 
country  gentleman's  newspaper. 

Mr.  James  Chetwynd  and  his  friend  David  Stirling 
walked  up  the  unfinished  avenue  at  ten  o'clock  precisely 
on  the  morning  of  the  sixth  of  September,  the  lawyer 
looking  about  him  with  the  air  of  a  proprietor  who  has 
been  absent  for  some  time  and  has  a  keen  eye  to  detect 
shortcomings.  David  Stirling  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground  and  t(K)k  little  notice  of  anything.  Only  as  he 
passed  the  little  side  avenue  which  led  from  the  broad 
drive  down  in  the  direction  of  the  old  house  Chetwynd 
noticed  that  he  started  violently,  as  at  the  sudden 
appearance  of  some  (jne  or  some  thing  unseen,  and, 
changing    about,    walkcil    on    the    (jthcr    side    with    his 

399 


AT     BAY 

companion  interposed  between  him  and  the  weed-grown 
gravel  in  front  of  the  ancient  doorstep. 

"  Steady,  Stirling,"  said  Chetwynd,  gravely,  laying  his 
hand  upon  his  client's  arm,  "  as  I  said  before,  we  have 
a  cunning  fox  to  run  to  earth  this  morning.  Don't  let 
him  persuade  you  to  throw  away  any  points  !  " 

"  You  can  count  on  me,"  said  David.  "  I  will  be 
calm." 

"  Leave  everything  to  me,  remember  —  do  not  inter- 
rupt, whatever  the  provocation.  If  you  are  asked  a 
question,  answer  it  —  no  more,  no  less  —  and  keep  your 
powder  dry  !  " 

These  were  Jim  Chetwynd's  final  instructions  as  the 
two  went  up  the  steps  to  the  front  door  of  the  new 
house  of  Arioland. 

Timson  it  was  who  opened  the  door  —  a  rural  gentle- 
man-farming Timson,  not  now  gorgeously  arrayed  so 
much  as  of  a  chastened  dignity,  in  keeping  with  the 
status  of  the  ancient  family  of  Torphichan-Stirling. 

"  Sir  Sylvanus  at  home  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  aware  whether  Sir  Sylvanus  can  receive 
you,  sir.  He  has  been  far  from  well,"  said  Timson, 
with  dignity. 

"  We  have  come  from  London  on  business,"  said 
Chetwynd,  sharply  ;  "we  have  an  appointment  with  your 
master.      Show  us  in." 

Timson  opened  the  door  with  an  air  of  resignation 
like  one  who  would  say,  "  I  have  done  my  best  for  the 
honour  of  the  house,  and  if  evil  comes  of  it  I  am  not  to 
be  blamed.      I  decline  responsibility." 

Sir  Sylvanus  sat  in  his  writing-chair  at  a  great  desk 
with  a  roller  top.  He  was  banked  in  with  an  array 
of  serried  pigeon-holes  that  rose  above  his  head  and 
extended  on  either  side  of  him,  as  if  the  distinguished 

400 


AT     BAY 

philanthropist  were  about  to  soar  to  tracts  unknown  on 
French-polished  mahogany  pinions,  carrying  all  his 
correspondence  with  him,  as  documents  of  importance 
even  to  the  recording  angel. 

Each  nest  of  six  or  eight  holes  was  labelled  with  the 
name  of  its  own  society,  from  that  of  the  Believing 
A'ledical  Students'  Tract  Union,  to  the  more  importu- 
nate propaganda  set  on  foot  by  the  "  Am-I-my-Brother's- 
Keeper-Responsibility  Society." 

Sir  Svlvanus  rose  with  astonishment  at  sight  of  the 
stranger  with  the  lawyer.  But  before  he  could  speak 
from  the  farther  end  of  the  room  came  a  shriek,  thin 
and   piercing. 

"It  is  David  —  David,  my  brother  —  risen  from  the 
dead  !  " 

And  there  stood  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling,  holding 
her  hands  in  front  of  her  with  palms  outstretched,  as  if 
to  ward  off  something.  A  look  of  startled  horror  was 
on  her  face*.  But  the  horror  on  his  wife's  countenance 
was  nothing  to  the  blank  and  ghastly  fear  that  seemed 
to  illuminate  that  of  Sir  Sylvanus,  shining  through  it  as 
a  light  might  shine  through  a  turnip-lantern. 

"Sarah  —  Sarah,"  he  said,  at  last,  in  a  shaking 
voice..  "  What  madness  is  this  ?  Pray  do  not  forget 
yourself." 

He  threw  a  little  whitish  powder  into  a  glass  with 
a  shaking  hand  before  he  emerged  from  behind  his 
rampart  of  pigeon-holes,  poured  water  upon  it,  and 
drank  it  off.  Then  he  came  out  and  bowed  to  the  two 
gentlemen  with  outward  calmness,  though  the  grey 
flush  could  still  be  seen  on  his  cheeks,  and  his  brow  was 
clammy  and  glistened  like  satin. 

"  I  expected,  according  to  your  letter,  that  you  would 
be  accompanied  by  the  young  woman,  Hester  Stirling. 
26  401 


AT     BAY 

To    what   do   I  owe   the  honour  of  a   visit   from   this 
gentleman  ?  " 

"As  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  has  already  informed 
you,  this  is  her  brother  and  my  good  client,  Mr.  David 
Stirling,  late  of  Upper  Burmah.  He  will  act  for  his 
daughter  on  this  occasion." 

Sir  Sylvanus  steadied  himself  with  a  mighty  effort. 
The  drug  which  he  had  taken  as  soon  as  he  realised 
the  nature  of  the  crisis  that  had  come  so  suddenly  upon 
him  had  begun  to  take  effect.  His  stature  seemed  to 
increase.  He  stood  more  erect.  His  lips,  hitherto 
grey  as  the  rest  of  his  face,  assumed  their  natural  colour. 
The  philanthropist  was  at  bay. 

Jim  Chetwynd  went  on. 

"We  will  first  settle  the  matter  of  Miss  Stirling's 
legacy.  I  have  here  certificates  of  birth  and  other 
necessary  documents  if  you  care  to  inspect  them  ;  and 
if  it  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  you  I  shall  be  glad  to 
accept  your  cheque  for  ^2,000,  for  which  I  have  a 
receipt  ready  in  my  hand.  No,  Lady  Stirling,  I  beg 
you  will  not  go.  I  should  very  much  have  preferred 
to  meet  with  your  husband  in  the  presence  of  his  lawyer, 
but  since  he  did  not  wish  it  to  be  so,  your  presence  as  a 
witness  is  of  the  utmost  importance." 

Sir  Sylvanus  was  sitting  down  at  his  desk  to  write  a 
cheque. 

"  Yes,  stay,  Sarah,"  he  said.  And,  obedient  to  his 
word.  Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  sat  down  again  on  the 
sofa,  restlessly  plaiting  and  unplaiting  her  fingers,  and 
gazing  first  at  her  husband  and  then  at  the  two  men 
who  stood  so  still  and  silent  by  the  window.  They  had 
not  been  asked  to  sit  down,  and  indeed  had  no  wish  to 
do  so. 

The  baronet  rose  with  the  cheque  in  his  fingers. 
402 


AT     BAY 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  steadily,  as  he  looked  at  the 
receipt.  "  Now,  the  business  is  finished,  I  shall  have 
the  honour  of  wishing  you  good  morning.  I  am,  as  you 
have  already  been  informed,  still  far  from  well." 

And  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  bell-pull  which  projected 
from  the  wall  adjacent  to  his  hand. 

But  Jim  Chetwynd  was  before  him. 

"  Before  you  do  that,"  he  said,  in  his  fighting  voice 
—  a  clear  hardish  falsetto,  with  a  metallic  timbre  to  it 
which  suggested  a  trumpet  —  "would  it  not  be  better 
for  all  parties  that  you  should  hear  what  we  have  to  say  ? 
It  may  save  us  having  to  repeat  our  words  in  various 
other  places — in  open  court,  for  instance,  and  before  a 
jury." 


403 


CHAPTER   L 

THE   BOLT    FALLS 

SIR  SYLVANUS  lifted  his  hand  from  the  bell  and 
stood  undecided. 
"  Do  you  insist  on  your  impossible  proposition 
that  this  —  ah,  gentleman  is  my  wife's  late  brother,  Mr. 
David  Stirling,  who  was  killed  in  Burmah  nearly  twenty 
years  ago  ?  " 

"■'  Not  killed.  Sir  Sylvanus,"  said  Chetwynd ;  "  im- 
prisoned and  tortured,  but  still  alive  to  reclaim  his  own 
and  to  see  that  the  fullest  justice  is  done  to  his  child." 

The  slightest  twitch  of  the  eminent  physician's  face 
betokened  that  the  thrust  had  gone  home. 

"  I  presume,  sir,"  said  he,  turning  to  David,  "  that 
you  are  aware  of  the  serious  consequences  of  prosecuting 
so  preposterous  a  claim  ?  " 

"I  am  fully  aware  of  it,  Sylvanus,"  said  David  Stir^ 
ling,  gravely.  "  Fourteen  years  in  prison  is  a  long  time. 
I  have  been  fourteen  years  in  prison.  /  do  not  wish  for 
a  second  dose." 

At  the  slight  emphasis  on  the  personal  pronoun  Sir 
Sylvanus  winced  again,  but  more  markedly. 

Chetwynd  shot  a  warning  glance  at  his  client. 

"I  am  not  now  going  to  insist  upon  the  fact  of  the 
identity,  or  for  that  matter  to  found  anything  upon  it. 
For  even  if  this  is  not  Mr.  David  Stirling,  that  does  not 
affect  the  claim  of  Mr.  David  Stirling's  daughter  to  the 
property  of  her  father  in  your  hands.  The  question  of 
identity  will  doubtless  be  settled  in  the  proper  court." 

404 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

"  Oh,  Sylvanus,"  cried  his  wife  from  where  she  sat 
opening  and  shutting  her  mouth  like  a  tish  on  grass,  and 
gripping  the  arms  of  the  chair,  '•'do  not  anger  them.  It 
/';  David  —  truly,  it  is  the  dead  come  to  life  ao;ain." 

"  Silence,  woman  !  "  cried  the  baronet,  bcndino-  a  look 
upon  his  wife,  so  herce  and  ugly  that  the  man's  whole 
nature  seemed  to  be  laid  bare.  It  was  as  if  some  black 
depth  of  the  primal  sea  had  been  drained  of  water,  and 
all  the  hideous  writhing  mass  of  polyp  tentacles,  the  glu- 
tinous mass  of  foul  things  that  breed  and  brood  in  the 
Under  Dark  had  suddenly  been  laid  bare. 

Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  lay  back  as  if  smitten  by  a 
paralytic  shock,  and  after  a  moment's  pause,  the  baronet 
lifted  his  regard  from  her  face. 

"  Gad,  it  was  enough  to  make  a  man  believe  in  the 
evil  eye,  to  look  at  the  beggar,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd 
afterward. 

Presently,  however,  the  lawyer  continued  his  state- 
ment, in  the  same   impassive   voice. 

"  I  have,  therefore,  to  claim  restitution  of  a  collection 
of  valuable  rubies  and  other  precious  stones,  committed 
to  the  care  of  Mrs.  Isobel  Stirling  by  my  client,  iVIr. 
David  Stirling,  her  eldest  son.  These  stones  were  con- 
tained in  a  black  bag  specially  constructed  for  the  pur- 
pose, with  an  inner  lining  of  steel,  which  had  a  couple 
of  red  stripes  going  vertically  across  it.  The  approxi- 
mate value  of  the  jewels  at  the  time  of  their  coming  into 
your  hands  was  jCiqo^ooo." 

"  I  have  never  seen  so  much  as  one  of  these,"  said 
the  baronet,  firmly.  "There  was  some  such  bag  in  a 
provision  cupboard  in  the  old  house,  I  believe,  but  it  was 
entirely  empty  when  I  found  it.  What  became  of  its 
contents  I  have  no  means  of  knowing." 

Jim  Chetwynd  bowed  gravely. 
405 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

"  Sir  Sylvanus,"  he  said,  "  I  fear  the  number  and  im- 
portance of  your  philanthropic  occupations  cause  you  to 
forget.  I  will  take  the  liberty  of  recalling  certain  facts 
to  your  remembrance.  On  October  i6th,  i8 — ,  Mrs. 
Stirling  died.  You  spent  the  i8th,  19th,  and  20th  in 
going  carefully  over  the  house.  You  found  the  will,  and 
amongst  other  things  you  came  upon  the  striped  bag  in 
the  cupboard  of  the  ordinary  sitting-room,  as  you  very 
correctly  say.  But  on  the  i6th,  the  day  of  Mrs.  Stir- 
ling's demise,  that  bag  was  noticed  to  be  full  and  heavy. 
On  the  19th  you  were  seen  with  all  the  jewels  on  the 
table  before  you " 

Sir  Sylvanus  sneered. 

"  Who  saw  me  ?  "  he  said,  scornfully.  "  Do  you 
think  any  judge  or  jury  will  accept  an  ex  parte  state- 
ment like  that  ?  " 

"  They  will  weigh  it  carefully  against  other  ex  parte 
statements  —  yours  in  particular,"  said  Chetwynd, 
parrying  neatly. 

"  I  presume  you  will  attach  some  importance  to  what 
Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  may  say  ?  "  continued  that 
lady's  husband.  "  I  will  have  the  bag  brought  down 
from  the  box-room.  I  believe  that  it  was  removed 
from  the  old  house  along  with  other  rubbish.  She  will 
tell  you  that  she  has  never  either  seen  or  heard  of  any 
jewels  contained  in  it  —  though  there  is  no  doubt  that 
it  came  out  of  my  mother-in-law's  house  somewhere.  If, 
therefore,  there  were  stones  or  other  articles  of  value 
in  it  when  Mr.  David  Stirling  committed  it  to  her 
charge,  there  was  certainly  none  in  it  when  it  was 
found  and  removed." 

The  baronet  rang  the  bell,  and  Timson  appeared. 

"  Bring  down  the  old  hand-bag  with  the  red  stripes 
I   saw   you  carrying  over   from   the   old    house   at  the 

406 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

time  of  the  removal.      It  Is,  I  think,  in  the  upper  box- 
room." 

Timson  returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  the  bag  in  his 
hand,  bearing  it  gingerly,  as  if  it  would  ruin  his 
breeches  if  brought  into  too  immediate  contact  with 
them. 

As  he  passed  the  two  visitors  to  the  house  of  Ario- 
land,  the  smallish  oriental-looking  man,  with  the 
grizzled  hair,  glanced  keenly  at  the  bag  in  his  hand, 
and  seemed  to  derive  a  certain  satisfaction  from  what 
he  saw. 

Sir  Sylvanus  opened  the  catch,  which  indeed  was 
only  held  close  by  the  pressure  of  the  hinge-springs. 
The  lock  had  been  burst  without  skill,  by  the  applica- 
tion of  force  on  either  side. 

"  It  is  eniptv,"  he  said,  glancing  within.  "  Lady 
Torphichan-Stirling  will  tell  you  that  it  was  in  this 
exact  condition  when   found." 

"  What  'my  husband  says  is  true,"  said  the  poor 
lady,  "  only  the  bag  was  found,  not  in  the  parlour  store- 
cupboard,  which  I  went  over  carefully  about  ten  days 
after,  but  in  a  recess  behind  the  sideboard.  It  was 
empty  and   open,  as  you   see   it   now." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  my  lady,"  said  Chetwynd, 
bowing  ceremoniously  and  respectfully.  "The  question 
is  who  opened  it  between  the  i6th,  when  it  was  on  the 
shelf,  locked  securely  and  very  heavy,  and,  say,  the 
26th,  when  it  was  found  behind  the  sideboard  in  a 
recess,  forced   and   rifled  ?  " 

"  May  I  look  at  the  bag  a  moment  ?  "  said  David 
Stirling. 

"  If  Mr.  Chetwynd  will  be  personally  responsible  that 
you  will  do  it  no  injury,"  said  the  baronet,  handing  it 
to  the  lawyer. 

407 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

David  Stirling  took  it  into  his  hand  with  evident 
pleasure.  He  tapped  the  steel  walls  with  his  knuckles, 
listening  as  he  did  so.  Then  swiftly  tilting  it  on  end 
he  touched  a  concealed  spring  at  one  of  the  lower 
angles.  The  apparently  solid  bottom  fell  away  with  a 
rasping  click,  and  several  papers  tumbled  out.  Sylvanus 
gave  a  hoarse  cry  and  sprang  forward. 

"  Give  them  to  me  ;  they  are  my  property  !  "  he 
cried. 

The  lawyer  interposed  a  strong  arm,  while,  with  a 
quick  stealthy  motion,  David  Stirling  gathered  them 
up.  Then  he  threw  the  bag  aside  as  of  no  more 
consequence. 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  belong  to  my  client.  I  know 
what  they  are  without  looking  at  them.  They  consist 
of  a  will  and  duplicate  attested  lists  of  the  jewels 
formerly  contained  in  the  bag.  The  will  is  Mr. 
Stirling's  holograph,  and  bequeaths  them  all  to  my 
other  client.  Miss   Hester  Stirling." 

"Deliver  these  papers,  or  1  will  summon  assistance!" 
cried  the  baronet,  white  and  furious. 

"  You  can  do  that  afterwards,"  said  Mr.  Chetwynd, 
calmly  turning  the  key  in  the  library  door  and  putting 
his  back  to  it.  David  Stirling  stood  with  the  newly- 
found  papers  in  his  hand,  without  a  trace  of  emotion 
showing  on   his   face. 

James  Chetwynd  went  on. 

"As  I  told  you  —  and  you  may  take  my  word  for  it  — 
one  of  the  papers  in  my  client's  hand  is  the  list  of  the 
jewels  found  in  the  secret  compartment  before  your  eyes. 
Well,  that  of  itself  proves  nothing.  But  a  most  curious 
coincidence  arises,  which  might  have  some  effect  if  put 
to  a  jury.  I  hold  another  list  in  my  hand,  the  details  of 
which  have  taken  some  years  of  labour  to  collect.     You, 

408 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

sir,  have  for  many  years  been  largely  interested  in  pre- 
cious stones,  and  this  is  a  fairly  complete  record  of  your 
transactions  to  date.  Mrs.  Stirling  died  on  the  i6th,  on 
which  day  the  jewel-bag  was  intact.  Ten  days  after,  on 
or  about  the  26th,  the  empty  bag  was  found  in  a  recess. 
On  December  ist  of  the  same  year,  at  the  counting- 
house  of  Messrs.  Vanderspuye  and  Co.  of  Grootpoort 
Street,  Amsterdam,  you  made  the  first  of  your  numerous 
sales  of  pigeon-blood  rubies,  being  the  identical  stones 
indicated  on  this  list  by  the  numbers  234  and  235,  a  pair 
of  very  fine  colour  indeed,  for  which  you  received  a  draft 
on  London  for  over  ^6,000. 

"  Then  I  have  also  here  the  dates  —  exact  for  the 
most  part,  a  few,  however,  being  only  approximate  —  at 
which  you  put  the  rest  of  the  rubies  and  some  few  dia- 
monds on  the  market.  As  usual  most  of  the  stones 
came  to  this  country,  or  passed  over  to  America,  and 
nearly  all   (I   may   inform  you)  can  be  traced." 

SylvanuS  had  grown  paler  and  paler  during  this 
speech.  He  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow  and 
wrung  the  chill  drops  off  it  which  otherwise  would 
have  run  down  into  his  eyes.  But  with  a  mighty 
effort  he  rallied. 

"  The  proof  is  insufficient,  sir,"  he  said  ;  "  there  can 
be  no  pedigree  of  an  uncut  stone  !  " 

"  Most  of  the  stones  —  nine  out  of  ten  at  least — were 
cut  !  Besides,  I  am  of  opinion  that  your  lawyer,  when 
you  put  the  evidence  before  him,  will  be  of  opinion  that 
it  is  sufficient  —  for  about  fourteen  years'  imprisonment, 
that  is  !  "  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  grimly.  He  had  no 
mercy,  for  he  remembered  how  callously  this  man  had 
accused  a  wronged  and  innocent  girl. 

**  By  gad  !  "  he  said,  as  the  memory  took  hold  of  him. 
"  I  will  grind  his  bones  for  that  !  " 

409 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

But  aloud  he  went  on. 

"  You  have,"  he  said, "  one  chance.  It  is  not  a  great 
one,  but  there  is  something  to  be  said  for  it.  It  is  con- 
ceivable, or  may  be  made  conceivable  to  a  British  jury, 
that  you  did  find  the  jewels,  did  appropriate  them,  con- 
cealing the  fact  from  your  wife,  did  dispose  of  them  from 
time  to  time,  did  purchase  estates,  become  a  philanthro- 
pist, go  into  Parliament,  and  so  on,  upon  the  proceeds. 
But,  finding  no  directions  regarding  them,  that  you 
considered  yourself  as  next  of  kin  to  the  lady  in  whose 
house  you  found  them,  and  therefore,  in  default  of  other, 
their  true  possessor. 

"  As  against  this,  however,  it  will  of  course  be  argued 
that  you  made  no  discovery  of  the  find,  as  you  would 
have  done  if  you  had  believed  that  you  were  honestly 
entitled  to  the  stones.  They  were  not  included  in  pro- 
bate, therefore  you  yourself  did  not  consider  them  to 
come  under  the  will.  Further,  you  have  represented  to 
your  customers  in  Holland  that  these  rubies  are  the 
product  of  a  mine  in  Burmah,  worked  privately  by  your 
brother  —  such  a  brother  not  being  in  existence.  And 
lastly,  and  what  will  weigh  with  the  jury  more  than 
anything  else,  your  own  evidence  in  the  last  case  against 
Miss  Hester  Stirling,  for  stealing  one  of  six  ruby  neck- 
laces similar  in  pattern  and  identical  in  marking,  will 
dispose  entirely  of  the  contention  that  your  action  in 
appropriating  the  goods  was  because  you  conscientiously 
believed  them  to  be  your  own  property.  You  found  five 
of  these  in  the  bag,  you  swore  that  you  found  six.  No 
judge  or  jury  will,  in  these  circumstances,  credit  your 
oath   as  to  the  remainder. 

"  To  recapitulate,  the  evidence  which  we  shall  lead  is, 
as  you  say,  insufficient  for  some  purposes,  but  I  think 
you  will  agree  that  it  will  probably  be  sufficient  to  induce 

410 


EETX^^ 


"  SYI.VAMS    Mil    .Nor    SIIAKK    ol-K    HIS    WIIK     I  HIS     TI.MK 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

a  jury  to  find  against  you  on  sufficient  points  to  warrant 
the  judge  in  sentencing  you  to  fourteen  years'  penal 
servitude  at  least." 

"Oh,  Sylvanus  —  dear  Sylvanus,"  cried  his  wife,  run- 
ning to  him  and  flinging  her  arms  about  his  neck,  "  do 
not  hold  out  against  them.  I  do  not  care  where  we  go. 
I  do  not  care  whether  you  did  it  or  not.  I  do  not  care 
whether  we  are  rich  or  poor.  But  oh,  Sylvanus,  it 
would  kill  me  if  they  put  you  in  prison.  Agree  with 
these  gentlemen — do  not  quarrel.  Mr.  Chetwynd  is  a 
good  Christian  man,  and  will  be  sorry  for  my  poor 
innocent  children.  David  is  my  brother.  Do  not  be 
hard  with  him,  gentlemen,  I  beseech  you.  He  has  been 
a  kind  husband  to  me." 

"And  after  this,"  as  Jim  Chetwynd  afterwards  said, 
"  we  could  not  quite  do  all  we  meant.  The  fellow  must 
have  had  some  good  about  him  to  make  his  wife  stick 
up  for  him  like  that." 

Sylvanus  did  not  shake  ofF  his  wife  this  time  —  neither 
did  he  browbeat  her  with  angry  words.  He  only  set 
her  a  little  apart,  but  gently,  like  a  troublesome  child. 
Then  he  moved  his  lips  to  frame  the  low-spoken  words 
"  What  do  vou  propose  ?  " 

*'  We  ha\  c  no  desire  to  be  oppressive,"  said  James 
Chetwynd,  "  though  we  are  prepared  to  use  all  means, 
and  if  it  comes  into  the  courts  prepared  also  to  prove  the 
worst.  Yet,  for  private  purposes  and  with  a  view  to 
the  avoidance  of  family  scandal  (always  a  bad  thing), 
we  are  willing  to  make  a  compromise,  though  it  is 
running  dangerously  near  to  compounding  a  felony. 
However,  these  are  the  terms  we  arc  prepared  to  accept. 
My  client  will  buy  the  estate  of  Ariohuui,  including  this 
house  which  you  have  built  upon  it,  at  a  valuation. 
You  will  make  count   and   reckoning  with  me  for  every 

411 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

precious  stone  you  have  sold,  on  which  we  will  allow 
you  ten  per  cent,  for  brokerage.  We  will  accept  settle- 
ment either  in  the  lands  you  have  bought,  at  the  prices 
you  have  paid  for  them,  in  approven  stocks,  or  in 
cash." 

"  If  you  insist  on  this,  I  am  a  ruined  man,"  said  the 
baronet. 

"  Most  people  would  be  very  glad  to  be  so  ruined," 
said  Chetwynd  y  "  I  calculate  that  you  will  still  be  worth, 
with  the  purchase  price  of  Arioland  and  your  brokerage 
on  the  jewels,  somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  of  three 
thousand  a  year.  Now  that  can  only  be  called  com- 
parative poverty,  and  all  this  you  will  have  in  addition 
to  any  private  fortune  you  may  have  amassed  by  your 
most  praiseworthy  and  diligent  efforts  in  your  profession." 

"Oh,  Sylvanus,  give  in  to  them,"  cried  his  wife;  "do 
not  make  them  angry.  I  do  not  care  a  bit  about  the 
money,  but  I  cannot  let  you  go  to  prison  for  all  those 
years.  At  our  age  I  should  never  see  you  again.  We 
shall  be  very  happy,  I  am  sure  !  ' 

The  voice  of  his  wife  seemed  in  some  degree  to  move 
the  fallen  man.      His  pride  ebbed  away  from  him. 

"  I  agree  to  your  terms  !  "  he  said,  in  a  broken  voice, 
and  bowed  his  head  on  his  hand. 

"  We  give  you  a  full  year  to  settle  in  —  and,  as  I  said, 
you  will  not  find  us  oppressive.  In  the  mean  time,  I 
leave  you  to  the  consolations  of  an  affectionate  wife. 
And  may  the  consciousness  of  your  many  good  works 
support  you  in  this  trial !  " 

"  And  do  you  know,  the  curious  thing  is  that  I  partly 
meant  it ! "  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  as  he  relieved  his 
companion  of  the  steel  bag  on  their  way  oyer  to  the 
Manse. 

"  You  let  the  rascal  down  too  easy,"  said  David 
412 


THE     BOLT     FALLS 

Stirlinc^;  "if  I  had  had  my  way  he  should  have  stood 
in  the  dock  —  for  what  he  did  to  my  girl." 

"  I  think  differently,"  said  Jim  Chetwynd  ;  "  I  have 
seen  as  much  as  most  men,  but  I  have  never  seen  any 
good  come  out  of  revenge  yet.  It  is  a  boomerang 
which  always  returns  to  strike  the  thrower  when  he 
least  expects  it.  The  solid  cash,  and  more  solid  land, 
will  be  so  much  more  satisfactory  —  especially  to  your 
successors." 

But  David  Stirling  only  shook  his  head  bitterly. 

'^  You  have  not  had  fourteen  years  in  prison  as  I 
have  had,  Mr.  Chetwynd,"  he  said.  "  '  Vengeance  is 
mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord.'  But  that  is 
because  he  wants  to  keep  all  the  pleasure  of  it  to 
himself!" 


413 


CHAPTER   LI 

HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

"r  I  ^HERE'S  sic  a  cryin'  o'  the  guidwives  o'  the 
I  village  frae  doorstep  to  doorstep  that  ye  are 
-*-  fair  deafened  as  ye  gang  doon  the  street,"  said 
Anders,  describing  his  progress  mansewards  through  the 
Clachan  of  St.  John  on  the  morning  of  the  sixth  of 
September. 

"  Carlin  calling  to  carlin,  as  Alp  to  Alp  !  "  commented 
the  minister,  grimly. 

*•■  This  will  learn  them,"  said  Megsy,  grimly,  thinking 
of  the  obloquy  which,  at  the  instance  of  local  greatness, 
had  so  recently  overwhelmed  her  treasure.  Megsy's 
state  of  mind  may  best  be  described  as  a  chastened 
triumph.  She  was  losing  her  darling,  indeed,  but  in 
what  circumstances  of  pride  and  hope !  Hester  was  to 
wed  Carus,  Master  of  Darroch,  the  only  son  of  a  Lord. 
A  real  Duchess  was  coming  to  look  on.  A  proximate 
Duke  was  to  be  best  man.  The  daughter  of  their 
hereditary  enemy  was  to  act  as  bridesmaid.  These 
things  were  sweet  to  Megsy  Tipperlin,  and  she  could 
not  hide  her  swelling  sense  of  satisfaction.  If  she  had 
known  the  scene  at  that  moment  being  enacted  in  the 
library  of  the  new  house  of  Arioland,  she  would  have 
been,  in  the  language  of  the  countryside,  "  neither  to 
hold  nor  to  bind." 

Hester  had  awakened  early,  and  her  first  thought,  as 
she  dimly  saw  the  window-blind  rosy  at  the  edges,  had 

414 


HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

been  of  Carus.  She  loved  him  —  he  loved  her.  This 
was  enough  —  for  several  seconds. 

Then  suddenly,  with  a  breaking  of  bonds  of  sleep, 
a  springing  forward  of  hot  blood,  a  bounding  of  fright- 
ened pulses,  Hester  remembered  that  this  was  the  morn- 
ins;  of  her  wedding  day.  To-day  it  was  all  coming  to 
an  end  —  no,  to  a  beginning.      To-day   she  was  to  give 

herself    to    Carus,    who     loved    her,    whom     she . 

And  a  tide  of  delicious  shame  and  joyous  apprehension 
overwhelmed  her.  Without,  the  blackbird  fluted  mellow 
on  a  thorn  to  the  mild  and  equal  autumn  morning. 
Down  in  the  woods  across  the  water  of  Darroch,  in  his 
father's  woods,  she  heard  the  strange  half-human  cry  of 
the  pheasant.  It  was  there  that  she  had  first  met 
him. 

To  give  herself  to  Carus  — ah,  that  was  very  sweet, 
and  passing  strange.  She  had  come  through  dark 
waters  lo  do  it  —  yet  she  had  not  been  all  unhappy.  It 
seemed  as  ^f  she  had  always  thought  lovingly  of  Carus. 
And  now  —  surely  it  could  not  be  that  to-day  —  before 
the  sun,  which  was  reddening  the  eastward  edges  of 
the  world,  should  redden  those  to  the  west,  she  would 
be — Hester  could  hardly  put  it  in  words  —  Carus's 
wife.  From  head  to  foot  she  burned  hotly  at  the  thought. 
But  smiled,  too;  smiled  so  bewitchingly  that  it  was 
fortunate  it  was  only  the  sun  who  was  looking  at  her 
through  the  chinks  of  the  old  manse  shutters. 

It  was  like  our  little  Hester  that  she  never  once 
thought  of  what  Carus  and  she  would  one  day  be  called 
—  Lord  Darroch,  Lady  Darroch  ;  she  never  thought  of 
it  once,  not  that  morning.  It  had,  indeed,  come  to  her 
while  he  was  away  in  London.  But  it  had  seemed  by 
so  much  the  most  terrible  and  impossible  thing  which 
lay  before  her  that   she   had  put   it   from   her.      Perhaps, 

415 


HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

after  all,  something  would  happen  to  prevent  that  part 
of  it.  Perhaps  they  did  not  permit  men  who  wrote  and 
made  their  own  money  by  telling  other  people  what  the 
law  was,  and  were  poor,  and  married  girls  who  had  been 
charged  with  stealing,  to  be  peers  of  Scotland.  Then 
she  had  thought  of  the  ball  and  of  how  these  people  who 
were  really  great  had  seemed  to  like  her,  and  the  memory 
had  been  some  satisfaction. 

But  now,  this  morning  of  her  wedding  day,  after  the 
first  delicious  thrilling  of  wonder  and  fear,  the  happiness 
that  invaded  and  took  possession  of  Hester's  heart  was 
all  caused  by  one  thought.  She  would  never  have  to  be 
alone  again.  Not  really,  that  is  —  for  even  when  Carus 
had  to  go  away  from  her,  she  would  know  that  he 
"  belonged,"  and  that  he  was  getting  ready  to  come  back 
to  her  as  soon  as  he  could. 

But  there  was  much  to  be  done.  She  must  not  lie 
there — just  thinking  of  Carus.  She  wondered,  in 
addition,  how  that  marvellous  wedding-dress  in  the  next 
room  would  look  in  the  daylight.  So  diaphanous,  so 
softly-clinging,  so  white  it  had  seemed  the  night  before. 
She  slipped  out  of  bed  and  stole  on  bare  feet  across  the 
floor,  to  the  door  of  the  chamber,  where  this  gown 
among  gowns  had  been  laid  when  taken  out  of  Madame 
Celine's  box.  She  would  just  have  one  peep  —  only 
one.  Carus  would  see  her  in  it  and  it  was  so  pretty. 
So,  with  her  sweet  face  all  flushed  and  eager  with  antici- 
pation, her  hair  tumbled  into  heaped  masses  of  soft 
curls  by  the  sleep  of  the  night,  Hester  stole  through 
the  quiet  home  a  glimmering  sun-flecked  figure  in 
maiden  white.  Her  hand  was  on  the  hasp.  She 
started  back.  She  heard  a  sound  of  muffled  sobbing. 
Who  could  it  be  ?  Had  anything  happened  ?  Per- 
haps   he    was    ill.     Perhaps    they    dared    not    tell    her. 

416 


HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

Scarcely    did     she    dare    to    open     the    door    and     look 
within. 

She  saw  Megsy  on  her  knees  by  the  little  spare 
bed,  on  which  the  wonderful  wedding-dress  had  been 
laid  out.  That  creation  of  the  supreme  artist  (wc  refer 
to  Madame  Celine,  of  Regent  Street,  not  to  the 
Architect  of  the  universe)  was  carelessly  tossed  aside 
and  Megsy  was  smoothing  and  patting  a  simple 
gown  of  plain  muslin,  with  little  bows  of  silk,  which 
looked  creamy  in  the  light  of  the  morning,  as  it 
streamed  over  the  tree  tops.  Megsv  was  on  her  knees 
before  this  schoolgirl's  frock,  smoothing  the  folds  and 
bending  out  the  loops  of  the  bows  with  her  stiff  old 
fingers.  But  it  was  the  sound  of  her  sobbing  that 
touched   Hester. 

Quick  as  a  flash  she  darted  in,  her  little  warm  feet 
making   no  sound   on   the  bare  wooden   floor. 

"  Megsy  —  Megsy  —  Megsy  dear,  what  is  the  matter  ? 
Why  are  you  crying  like  that  ?      What  is  it .?  " 

Megsy  started  violently,  but  instantly  recovering  her- 
self, she  turned  indignantly  upon  Hester. 

"  Greetin'  — ye  are  no  wise,  lassie.  What  for  should 
auld  Megsy  be  greetin'  on  a  day  like  this  .''  " 

"  But,  Megsy,  there  on  your  face  this  very  minute, 
you  old  pet  —  why  there  is  one"  —  (she  touched  a 
wet  spot  on  Megsy's  cheek,  where  a  furrow  had 
acted  as  a  channel).  "  Dear  Megsy,  tell  me  why 
you  are  so  sorry.  And  what  is  this  —  is  it  one  of  your 
old  dresses  ?  " 

"  It  is  your  ain  mither's  wedding-dress,  Hester,"  said 
Megsy,  glad  to  have  found  a  subject.  "Your  grand- 
mithcr  brought  it  back  with  her.  It  was  the  only  thing 
your  faither  didna  burn.  I  'm  thinking  that  his  heart  gicd 
way  within  him  when  he  tried  tu  put  that  in  the  fire." 
27  417 


HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

"My  mother's  wedding-dress,"  said  Hester.  "My 
own  dear  mother,  whom  I  never  saw " 

"  Little  she  got  oot  o't  but  sorrow,"  said  Megsy. 
"  The  Lord  gie  ye  her  happiness  an'  your  ain  too,  my 
lassie  ! " 

"  She  got  the  man  she  loved,"  said  Hester.  "  I 
should  be  willing  to  die,  I  think,  after  I  have  had  Carus 
—  all  to  myself —  for  a  year  !  " 

"  And  I  thocht,"  Megsy  went  on,  "  that  ye  micht 
like  to  see  the  puir  bit  thing.  Sae,  I  did  it  up  that 
ye  micht  see  hoo  muckle  mair  bonny  an'  graund  an' 
stylish  to  look  upon  is  this  braw  goon  that  her  Grace 
has  sent  ye.  I  kenned  ye  wad  lauch  to  see  the  differ- 
ence !  " 

Cunning  Megsy — jealous  Megsy,  too!  She  thought 
that  these  great  ones  of  the  earth  were  taking  alto- 
gether too  much  upon  them,  thus  to  arrange  for  her 
bairn  even  before  they  got  her  away  from  the  plain 
old  manse,  and  from  the  care  of  Revvie  and  herself. 
They  had  not  crooned  hush-a-bye  over  her  in  the  days 
when,  a  little  forsaken  motherless  bundle,  she  had 
wailed  and  refused  to  be  comforted,  searching  with 
blind  lips  for  that  which  was  as  white  as  marble  and 
as  cold. 

So  Megsy  had  contrived  this  —  and  then,  caught  in 
her  own  devices,  she  had  wept  and  prayed,  and  prayed 
and  wept,  that  her  darling  might  have  a  longer  and 
happier  life  than  the  young  bride  and  wife  whose 
simple  white  frock  she  had  laid  out  before  her  on 
the  bed. 

Meanwhile  Hester  had  been  thinking. 

"  Megsy,"  she  cried,  a  swift  thought  running  athwart 
her  brain,  "  I  will  wear  it  to-day  —  this  dress  ot  my  own 

dear  mother's " 

418 


HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

"  Nonsense  —  nonsense,  lassie,  ye  vvillna  —  ye 
maunna " 

"  Megsy,  I  must  —  I  will !  " 

"  And  what  will  her  Grace  say,  gin  ye  cast  frae  ye 
lichtly  the  graund  goon  she  coft  and  sent  a'  the  way 
frae  London  toon  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  her,  Megsy.     She  will  understand  !  " 

So,  early  that  morning,  Madame  Celine's  beauteous 
creation  was  folded  up  neatly  in  tissue  paper  and  silver 
paper  and  gilded  cardboard  and  wrapped  about  with 
string.  While  Hester  and  Megsy,  with  needle  and 
thread  and  scissors,  with  box-iron  and  pleat-iron  and 
goffcring-iron,  prepared  a  surprise  for  the  little  company 
of  wedding  guests  already  converging  upon  the  old 
manse  by  the  Darroch  water. 

At  breakfast  time  Hester  descended,  flushed  with  the 
great  thought,  her  white  baking  apron  covering  her  old 
brown  dress  and  making  (to  eyes  male)  still  more  ador- 
able the  lithe  grace  of  her  figure.  Revvie,  who  in  his 
ignorance  had  expected  a  toilet  even  thus  early  in  the 
day,  stared  in  amazement. 

Then  he  nodded  his  head. 

"  You  could  not  do  better,  little  one,"  he  said,  kissing 
her  ;  "you  should  be  married  just  as  you  are,  like  that. 
Or,  if  that  be  canonically  forbidden,  as  I  suspect,  at 
least  be  sure  that  you  wear  it  often  afterwards,  for 
Master  Carus's  sake." 

"Oh,  Revvie,"  she  cried,  patting  the  grey  scrubby 
locks,  "  what  a  shame  you  never  got  married.  You  say 
such  charming  things.  I  think  you  would  have  made  a 
very  nice  lover  too " 

She  looked  at  him  critically,  turning  his  head  about 
this  way  and  that  with  a  finger  and  thumb  applied 
beneath   the  chin. 

419 


HER    MOTHER'S    WEDDING    DRESS 

"  And  I  suppose  you  expect  to  ravish  us  all  in  that 
wonderful  dress  of  the  Duchess's  I  saw  last  night !  " 

"  It  looks  so  much  more  lovely  to-day  j  Revvie,  you 
should  just  see  it !  " 

"  I  can  wait  !  "  said  the  minister. 

Thus  diplomatically  spoke  Happy  Deceit. 


420 


CHAPTER    LII 

UNDER    THE    CANOPY 

HER  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Niddisdale  was  driv- 
ing over  from  Knockdon  in  the  ducal  carriage 
and  four,  attended  by  iVliss  Victoria  Torphichan- 
Stirling  and  —  the  Marquess  of  Kipford,  her  Grace's 
grandson.  The  horses  were  changed  at  the  inn  of 
Barnbogrie,  to  which  they  had  been  forwarded  some 
days  before. 

The  Duchess  occupied  the  whole  of  the  back  seat,  or 
at  least  she  and  what  Vic  irreverently  called  her  "  props  " 
did.  These  included  an  old-fashioned  dressing-case  full 
of  bottles  and  powder-shells,  a  snuff-box  with  a  portrait 
of  Prince  Charlie  on  the  lid,  a  prayer-book,  two  packs 
of  cards,  Dr.  Johnson's  Rasselas,  and  a  French  novel 
fast  resolving  itself  into  its  component  "signatures." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Kipford,  feelingly,  "  I  don't 
believe  that  this  is  any  proper  marriage  at  all.  Just 
think,  grandmother  Niddisdale,  it  is  to  be  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  not  in  a  church,  no  red  carpet, 
no  procession  down  the  aisle,  no  wedding  march,  —  is  it 
binding  really  ? " 

He  gave  a  little  hitch  to  the  thin  Indian  rug  which 
(in  their  care  for  the  Duchess's  health)  Vic  and  he  had 
thrown  across  the  inside  of  the  carriage.  He  drew  it  a 
little  higher  on  the  side  at  which  Vic  sat. 

The  Duchess  smiled  indulgently  as  she  watched  the 
manoeuvre  out  of  the  corner  of  a  pair  of  very  experi- 
enced old  eyes. 

421 


UNDER     THE     CANOPY 

"  I  wonder  if  they  actually  think  I  don't  see  them  ! " 
she  thought.  For  there  were  reasons  why  the  merest 
tyro  in  affairs  of  the  heart  might  have  discerned  that 
Vic  and  Kipford  were  holding  each  other's  hands  under- 
neath the  Indian  rug.  But  aloud  she  said,  "  Oh,  in 
Scotland  the  difficulty  is  to  escape  being  married,  you 
know.  Everything  holds  good.  If  you  and  Vic  were  to 
stand  up  before  a  couple  of  witnesses  and  declare  that 
you  were  man  and  wife,  it  would  be  as  binding  as  if  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  had  married  you  with  bell, 
book,  and  candle." 

Kipford  pressed  Vic's  hand  so  hard  that  the  Indian 
rug  trembled.  Well,  that  was  worth  knowing  too,  if 
(as  he  put  it)  the  governor  should  cut  up  rough. 

"  I  wonder  how  our  little  Hester  is  taking  it  ?  "  said 
the  Duchess.  "  She  will  be  in  her  bridal  grandeur  by 
this  time,  and  sitting  waiting." 

As  they  drove  down  the  long  street  of  the  Clachan, 
the  whole  population  turned  out  to  see.  The  ducal 
coachman  gathered  up  his  ribbons  more  firmly,  the 
postilions  on  the  leaders  sat  more  erect,  and  the 
Duchess's  four  splendid  blacks,  recognising  what  was 
expected  of  them,  bent  their  necks,  and  threw  out  their 
feet  with  their  best  action.  With  due  circumspection 
the  carriage  turned  in  at  the  white  manse  gate  under 
the  elms.  This  was  held  open  by  Anders  in  his  Sunday 
best  with  a  flower  in  his  button-hole.  Then,  with  clatter 
of  unanimous  hoof  and  tremendous  spraying  of  pebbles, 
the  equipage  drew  up  on  the  little  sweep  of  gravel  before 
the  door.  Kipford  gave  Vic's  hand  a  final  squeeze,  and 
leaped  out  before  the  stately  footman  could  open  the 
door.  Her  Grace  slowly  descended,  and  half-way  up 
the  steps  held  up  her  hands,  letting  fall  a  black  satin 
bag  in  her  astonishment. 

422 


UNDER     THE     CANOPY 

*'  Why,  Hester,  everybody  will  be  coming  in  less 
than  twenty  minutes  —  and  you  in  that  old  schoolroom 
dress,  and  a  white  apron.  Where  is  Carus  ?  I  believe 
you  have  been  wasting  your  time  sweethearting  —  as  if 
you  would  not  both  be  sick  and  tired  of  it  before  a 
month  is  out.  What  !  he  has  not  arrived  yet  ?  He  is 
still  at  the  inn  !  You  have  not  seen  him  to-day  ?  Well, 
I  would  not  have  believed  it  of  Carus  !  " 

Hester  took  the  Duchess  up  the  stairs  into  her  own 
bedroom. 

"  Where  is  your  dress,  my  dear  ?  I  hope  that  stupid 
Celine  has  sent  it  in  time  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Hester,  "  but  do  not  be  angry, 
dear  Lady  Niddisdale.  This  is  what  I  am  going  to 
wear." 

"  Why  —  tell  me  why  ?  "  said  the  Duchess,  kind 
but  mystified.     "  Does  it  not  suit  you  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes  ;  it  is  too  beautiful ;  but  this  —  this  is 
my  mother's  wedding-dress.  And  —  and  —  it  is  a  secret, 
but  I  must  tell  you  —  my  father  has  been  found.  Carus 
told  me  not  to  tell.  He  is  to  be  here  to-day.  Mr. 
Chetwynd  is  bringing  him.  And  I  want  to  wear  my 
mother's  wedding-dress  for  his  sake  !  " 

"  Very  well,  so  you  shall,  childie,  so  you  shall.  We 
will  give  a  ball  at  Scotstarvit  House  when  you  and 
Carus  come  back,  and  you  can  have  Madame's  dress 
altered  for  that.  And  now  we  '11  have  Vic  up,  and  make 
you  look  as  lovely  as  we  can  !  " 

"  I  declare,  there  is  the  auld  Adam  himsel'  !  "  cried 
Lady  Niddisdale,  looking  out  of  the  window  of  Hester's 
little  room,  when  the  arraying  was  nearly  finished.  "■  I 
wonder  if  he  is  coming  to  forbid  the  banns.  He  should 
have  done  that   in   the   kirk  on  Sunday,  though.      If  he 

423 


UNDER     THE     CANOPY 

is  going  to  play  death's  head  at  the  feast,  I  '11  death's 
head  him,  the  bewigged  old  scoundrel ! 

"  But  it  will  be  all  right,"  she  continued,  after  a 
pause ;  "  Jim  Chetwynd  has  gone  to  meet  him.  Jim 
will  take  him  in  hand.  I  know  that  cold-water-down- 
your-spine  look  of  his.  See,  my  lord  is  uncomfortable 
already.      He  does  n't  like  Jim  !  " 

It  was^  indeed,  with  the  idea  of  entering  some  protest 
against  the  marriage  of  his  son  that  my  Lord  Darroch 
had  come  over.  Grumphy  Guddlestane  had  kept  him 
informed  of  all  he  could  hear  at  the  few  haunts  left  to 
him  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  was  burning  to  be 
revenged  on  Carus.  The  iron  of  the  "  sparrables " 
upon  his  young  master's  boot  had,  by  a  somewhat  un- 
usual portal,  entered  into  his  soul. 

But  as  the  justly  indignant  parent  approached  the 
Manse,  with  a  rapid  step,  Mr.  James  Chetwynd  went 
forth  to  meet  him,  holding  out  his  hand.  Lord 
Darroch  looked  as  if  he  would  have  liked  to  de- 
cline the  honour,  but  Jim  Chetwynd's  hand  was  not 
easily  set  aside,  and  Jim  Chetwynd's  eye  not  one 
to  be  denied  when  it  had  that  grey  glint  in  it,  like 
winter  moonlight  on  polished  steel,  as  steady  and  as 
cold. 

"  I  think,  my  lord,"  he  said,  after  ascertaining  the 
parental  purposes,  "  you  would  do  well  not  to  make  any 
objections  at  this  stage  of  the  proceedings.  You  will' 
only  alienate  your  son  more  completely,  and  I  am  sure 
you  have  no  wish  to  do  that." 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  swelled  the  peer,  the  remembrance 
of  his  wrongs  surging  high  within  his  breast ;  "  I  have 
done  everything  for  the  boy.  I  have  never  attempted 
to  control  him  save  in  this  one  thing.  And  now  he 
goes  and  marries  a  pauper  to  disgrace  and  spite  me,  a 

424 


UNDER     THE     CANOPY 

nursery  governess  who  left  her  employer's   house  under 
grave  suspicion " 

"  That  will  do,  sir ;  you  must  not  forget  that  the 
young  lady  was  my  client,  and  I  have  no  doubt  you 
remember,  too,  the  judge's  words  at  the  close  of  the 
trial.  But  let  me  remind  you  that  IVIiss  Stirling  is  the 
sole  descendant  in  the  direct  male  line  of  the  oldest 
branch  of  the  Stirlings  of  Arioland,  a  family  as  old,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  as  your  own " 

"  But  they  will  be  penniless !  I  certainly  will  not 
give  them  a  farthing,  and  I  will  see  that  every  farthing 
I  have  any  influence  over  goes  elsewhere.  I  will  not 
be  defied  ;  defied,  sir,  by  a  couple  of  foolish  chits " 

"  Poverty,  sir,  is,  after  all,  a  comparative  term,"  said 
Jim  Chetwynd,  gravely  ;  "  I  may  inform  you,  in  strict 
confidence,  of  course,  and  on  my  professional  word  of 
honour,  that  on  her  father's  death  Miss  Stirling  will 
be  worth  something  like  ten  thousand  pounds  a 
year "  * 

The  peer  of  the  realm  gasped,  as  well  he  might. 

"On  her  father's  death!  Is  not  her  father  dead? 
Ten  thousand  a  year  !  If  that  be  true  —  well,  I  acknowl- 
edge it  would  make  a  difference.  I  have  always  loved 
my  boy.  He  is  all  I  have  in  the  world.  I  should  like 
to  give  him  my  blessing — and  —  and  his  dear  young 
bride!" 

"  Ah,  who  is  this  ?  " 

They  had  unconsciously  approached  the  steps  of  the 
Manse.  It  was  not  far  up  the  little  avenue  at  the 
farthest. 

"  Mr.  Stirling,  you  know  my  Lord  Darroch  ?  " 

It  was  Chetwynd  who  spoke,  with  a  curious  tremor 
in  his  voice.  "  If  he  stands  this  he  is  all  right,"  he  was 
saying  to  himself. 

425 


UNDER     THE     CANOPY 

My  Lord  Darroch  slowly  paled  to  a  greyish-green  as 
he  looked  at  the  man  before  him.  David  Stirling  did 
not  address  a  word  to  the  peer  to  whom  he  was  thus 
introduced,  but  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  in  an 
uncanny  silence,  he  launched  himself  at  Lord  Darroch's 
throat.  And  he  would  have  borne  him  to  the  ground 
in  the  fierceness  of  his  anger  had  Chetwynd  not  inter- 
posed an  arm ;  "  Steady,  David,  for  your  daughter's  sake. 
See,  there  she  is " 

David  Stirling  raised  his  eyes,  and  dropped  his  hands. 
Above  him,  and  quite  near,  stood  a  slender  girlish  bride, 
in  spotless,  old-fashioned  white,  simple  and  cheap  in 
material,  but  fitting  her  young  curves  perfectly. 

"  My  God  —  Hester  —  my  wife  !  "  he  cried,  and  with 
a  reeling  brain  fell  back  into  Chetwynd's  arms. 

"  How  was  I  to  know  ?  "  said  my  Lord  Darroch,  as 
Jim  Chetwynd,  having  committed  David  to  his  daugh- 
ter's care,  escorted  the  peer  down  the  gravel ;  "  I  had 
forgotten  about  the  girl  ages  ago.  There  never  was 
anything  in  it  any  way,  though  her  father  was  un- 
doubtedly a  rare  old  scoundrel.  I  thought  she  was 
only  a  little  actress  wench  out  of  a  player's  booth. 
How  was  I  to  know  that  things  would  turn  out  as  they 
have  done  ? " 

"  How  indeed  ?  "  said  Jim  Chetwynd,  unsym patheti- 
cally, and,  without  any  farewell  to  the  victim  of  circum- 
stances, he  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  my  lord  to  pursue 
his  ruffled  way  back  to  the  towers  of  Darroch. 

They  stood  up  together  "  in  the  greater  church,"  as 
the  minister  put  it  afterwards,  to  be  married  the  one 
to  the  other,  according  to  the  ancient  custom  and 
order  of  the  Kirk  of  Scotland.     It  was  the  Duchess's 

426 


UNDER     THE     CANOPY 

idea  that  thev  should  be  married  in  the  lovely  manse 
garden,  which  descends  in  irregular  terraces  to  the 
clear  amber  pools  of  the  Darroch  water.  The  parlour 
seemed  close  that  glorious  September  day,  and  the  great 
beeches  at  the  end  of  the  long  walk  made  a  spacious 
cathedral,  through  which  the  winds  murmured  a  kind  of 
JEoVmn  nuptial  hymn  all  the  while. 

Very  handsome  they  looked,  Carus  proud  and  straight, 
Hester  thrown  back  into  her  teens  again  by  the  simplicity 
of  her  white  dress.  But  her  eyes  were  purple  in  their 
depths,  and  they  seemed  all  depth  together,  so  great  and 
dark  and  lustrous  thev  were.  Before  them  stood  the 
minister,  and  exhorted  them  to  love  and  good  works  in 
the  bond  of  peace,  his  grey  hair  making  a  kind  of  storrny 
glory  about  his  head. 

And  when  it  came  to  the  questionings,  "  I  will  !  " 
said  Carus,  in  a  hoarse  whisper.  And  "  I  will,"  said 
Hester,  a  little  pulse  going  tick-tick  all  of  itself  down  at 
the  bottom  x>{  her  throat.  They  did  not  kneel  at  any 
altar.  They  were  not  gazed  upon  by  crowded  pews. 
But  the  birds  of  the  garden  sang  their  wedding-march 
as  they  went  soberly  down  the  gravel  walk,  when  all 
was  over,  Carus  with  his  wife's  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  I  've  got  you  !  You  can't  get  away  now,"  he  said, 
very  low,  as  they  came  near  the  door. 

"  I  don't  want  to  !  "  she  answered,  and  smiled  up  at 
him. 


427 


END  PAPER 

"TOEHOLD  in  me,"  said  Vic,  as  she  took  off  her 
l""^  big  Gainsborough  hat  and  threw  it  victoriously 
-*— ^  on  a  chair,  "the  Prodigal  Daughter,  just  after 
the  killing  of  the  fatted  calf —  I  don't  mean  you, 
Kipford.  You  need  not  look  so  anxious.  But  I  '11 
tell  you  how  it  was,  Hester.  I  know  you  are  dying  to 
hear — or  what  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  I  am  dying 
to  tell  you." 

They  were  seated  in  the  same  old  room  of  the  ancient 
House  of  Arioland  in  which  the  story  began.  There 
was  the  store  cupboard  in  which  the  black  bag  with  the 
red  stripes  had  been  set.  The  marks  of  the  bottoms  of 
preserve  jars  and  honey  glasses  were  still  brown-circled 
upon  the  pale  paint  of  its  shelves.  Hester  and  Carus 
were  living  here  till  the  alterations  at  the  new  house  on 
the  brae  were  finished.  Then  Revvie  and  Megsy  were 
going  into  the  old  house  to  live,  for  they  had  at  last 
persuaded  the  minister  that  he  should  take  his  well- 
earned  leisure,  and  give  up  the  Manse  by  the  Darroch 
water  to  a  colleague  and  successor  soon  to  be  appointed. 
Hester  sat  and  sewed  placidly  as  she  listened.  Restless 
Vic  twisted  her  gloves  into  knots  and  threw  them  at 
Kipford,  who  indulgently  gave  them  back  to  her  again, 
as  he  listened  with  a  smiling  admiration  to  her  prattle. 
They  had  ridden  over  from  Knockdon  together. 

"I  thought  it  would  be  rather  fun  to  see  how  they 
were  getting  on  at  Russell  Square  you  know  ;   so  when 

I  was  in  town  I  made  Kippie  walk  over  with  me " 

428 


END     PAPER 

"And  wait  outside  the  door — no  fun  !  "  put  in  that 
young  man,  plaintively. 

"  Hush! — well,  Timson  let  me  in,  with  a  doubtful 
look  on  his  face  •,  so  I  said  to  him,  *■  You  need  n't  be 
afraid,  Timson,  I  'm  not  after  the  spoons.  The  work- 
house provides  those.'  " 

Hester  looked  up  in  some  astonishment.  Kipford 
nodded,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Yes,  she  really  said  that  ! 
Is  n't  she  magnificent  ?  "  the  young  man  was  very  much 
in  love. 

"So  he  led  me  up  to  the  great  drawing-room,  where 
the  philanthropy  mills  still  work  —  and  my  Sam,  don't 
they  grind  slowly.  And  by  great  good  luck,  there  they 
were,  all  except  my  father  and  Tom,  who,  you  know, 
has  chambers  of  his  own  now.  They  were  waiting  on 
some  swells  —  the  peer  who  has  invented  the  new  baby- 
trainer,  for  use  in  all  nurseries,  complete  with  automatic 
nursemaid  and  patent  'mother'  attachment — tickles  it 
it  under  'the  chin,  baby  laughs.  It  cries  without 
good  reason  —  c/ick^  smacking  attachment  comes  into 
action ! 

"  Vic  !  "  said  Hester  reproachfully,  as  became  an  old 
and  staid  married  woman.  But  Kipford  only  laughed 
the  more  delightedly. 

"Go  on,  Vic,"  he  said,  encouraging  her  —  which  the 
young  woman  did  not  need  in  the  least. 

"  Well,  when  I  went  in  I  stood  —  like  this  —  '  Return 
of  the  Penitent  Outcast  to  the  Family  Hearth.'  Then, 
as  nobody  spoke,  I  said,  '  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to 
forgive  me  !  ' 

"  Then  it  was  mother  who  spoke. 

" '  Victoria,'  says  she,  '  can  you  expect  to  be  forgiven 
when  you  have  turned  against  all  your  blood  relations 
for  the  sake  of  a  stranger  ? ' 

429 


END     PAPER 

"  '  I  know  I  don't  deserve  that  you  should ' 

*' '  Hold  your  tongue,'  says  the  mater ;  '  I  will  not 
have  you  in  my  house  —  either  now  or  ever  again  !  I 
will  make  an  end  of  this  ! ' 

"  Eth  and  Claudia  said  nothing,  but  sat  looking  at 
patterns  in  a  stray   Lady's  Home   Journal. 

" '  Mother,'  I  said,  getting  down  on  my  knees  (here 
Kipford  nodded  again),  'hear  me  —  listen  to  one  word 
from  an  unworthy  daughter  —  only  one  before  you  drive 
me  forth  from  your  roof ! ' 

" '  Whatever  you  have  got  to  say  —  say  it  and  go ! ' 

"And  with  that  she  pointed  her  finger  to  the  door  — 
extraordinarily  dignified  the  mater  was." 

"  It  must  have  been  as  good  as  a  play !  "  chuckled 
Kipford. 

"  It  was  a  play  !  "  snapped  Vic,  "  and  do  be  good 
enough  to  shut  up.  Waffles!  So  I  pretended  to  look 
demurely  down,  and  they  all  waited  for  me  to  speak. 

"  '  So,'  says  I,  '  it  is  really  nothing,  only  I  thought 
you  might  like  to  know  that  I  am  going  to  marry  the 
Marquess  of  Kipford,  the  Duke  of  Niddisdale's  eldest 
son ' 

" '  What  ? '  they  cried  all  together.  '  No,  it  is  im- 
possible !  ' 

"  So  I  said  it  was  just  possible,  and  showed  them  my 
ring.  Did  n't  Kippie  do  himself  proud  when  he  bought 
that  ?  "  said  Vic,  exhibiting  it. 

"  Got  it  on  tick  !  "  put  in  the  fond  lover. 

"  Then,  as  soon  as  they  found  out  that  I  was  n't 
telling  lies,  they  all  came  round  about  me  like  flies  to  a 
honey-pot  —  all  except  the  pater^  that  is  ! 

" '  My  de — ear  daughter,  all  is  forgiven,'  said  the 
mater., '  I  always  said  it  would  come  to  this  —  did  n't  I, 
girls  ?     You    know  I   did,  though    you   won't    answer. 

430 


END     PAPER 

And  vou  will  be  a  real  Duchess,  Victoria,  and  take  pre- 
cedence of  that  little !  '    Of  you,  Hester,  she  meant. 

Then  Claudia  came  up  and  kissed  me.  '  I  hope  he  will 
make  you  very,  very  happy,'  she  said  in  my  ear.  Oh, 
Clau  knows  her  way  about  ! 

"  '  Kippie  had  better,'  I  answered  —  for  the  moment 
forgetting  my  part  — '  or  I  will  make  him  singularly 
unhappy  ! '  " 

Kipford  nodded  again,  as  much  as  to  say,  *' And  she 
would,  too  !  "  He  seemed  unaccountably  pleased  at  the 
prospect. 

"So  with  that  they  all  fell  on  my  neck  and  kissed  me 
—  except  only  old  Eth.  And  by  Jove,  but  she  was  the 
best  man  of  the  lot.  She  stuck  to  her  guns,  and  didn't 
cotton  to  the  duchess  business  —  not  a  little  bit ! 

"  '  You  need  n't  think  to  come  your  grand  marriages 
over  me  !  '  she  said,  as  she  lifted  her  skirts  and  swept 
out  as  fine  as  you  please.  *  If  you  were  going  to  marry 
a  reigning  -prince,  I  would  not  speak  to  you  —  because  of 
the  way  vou  have  backed  up  that  little  Hester  Stirling  !' 

"  '  Good  for  you,  old  No-Surrender,'  I  said  ;  '  you  're 
the  girl  to  lead  a  forlorn  hope  —  and  it  's  getting  pretty 
forlorn  now,  is  n't  it,  Eth  ?  ' 

"  For  I  was  n't  going  to  let  her  walk  off  with  all  the 
honours." 

David  Stirling  died  four  months  after  his  return  from 
captivity  and  was  laid  beside  that  first  young  Hester 
whom  (I  doubt  it  not)  he  went  forth  to  join,  where 
spirit  can  commune  with  spirit  and  love  answers  love 
untrammelled  to  ail  eternity. 

Sir  Svlvanus  was  never  the  same  after  the  great 
collapse  of  his  "  speculaticjns."  He  remained  a  rich 
man  still,  but  somehow  to   himself  the  savour  had  gone 

431 


END     PAPER 

out  of  his  life.  So  one  day  he  measured  out  carefully  a 
triple  quantity  of  the  same  white  powder  into  a  glass 
of  water,  tranquilly  took  it,  and  came  in  to  where  his 
wife  was  sitting. 

"  Have  I  been  a  good  husband  to  you,  Sarah  ?  "  he 
said,  quietly  sitting  down  beside  her. 

"  Why,  Sylvanus,  dear,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  she 
cried,  startled;  "of  course  you  have  —  never  a  better  !  " 

"  Ah,  then  there  is  one  person  on  earth  who  will 
regret  me.     Give  me  your  hand,  Sarah  !  " 

And  he  shut  his  eyes  and  slept  —  never  to  waken 
again  on  earth. 

And  now  when  Hester  and  Carus  go  to  Russell 
Square,  as  for  Vic's  sake  they  sometimes  do,  Ethel,  who 
is  still  unmarried,  does  not  see  them,  but  Claudia  is 
perennially  charming.  And  always  before  they  go  out. 
Lady  Torphichan-Stirling  solemnly  draws  back  a  purple 
curtain  as  from  before  a  shrine.  A  full-length  picture 
of  Sir  Sylvanus  in  academical  gown  is  disclosed.  The 
black  frock-coat  falls  without  a  crease,  immaculate, 
faultless,  emblematic  of  the  character  of  the  departed. 

"  There,"  she  sighs,  in  the  hushed  tones  of  a  devotee, 
"  there  stands  my  blessed  angel,  once  a  saint  among  men, 
now  a  saint  among  immortal  spirits.  He  is  dead,  but 
his  works  live  after  him.  Verily  the  memory  of  the  just 
is  blessed !  " 

Then  Hester  and  Carus  say  not  a  word,  neither  does 
James  Chetwynd  say  a  word  when  he,  too,  visits  the 
faithfully-tended  shrine  of  Sylvanus  Torphichan-Stirling, 
Bart,  M.D.,  Philanthropist  and  Malefactor. 

There  is  a  sound  of  young  voices  now  in  the  great 
house  of  Arioland.  Lady  Niddisdale  threatens  condign 
punishment  and  compromises   for  future  good  behaviour 

432 


END     PAPER 

on  the  basis  of  present  candy.  My  Lord  Darroch  comes 
over  and  kisses  his  daughter-in-law. 

"This  is  indeed  a  privilege,"  he  says;  "did  I  not  tell 
you,  Carus,  you  dog,  that  you  ought  to  get  married  early  !" 

My  lord's  memory  is  a  useful  one,  even  in  what  it 
forgets. 

Then  he  takes  his  son  aside,  and  says,  "  By  the  way, 
dear  bov,  just  lend  me  a  hundred  or  two,  if  you  are  well 
fixed  at  your  banker's  just  now.  Jobson  is  becoming 
confoundedly  impertinent  !  You'll  get  it  all  back  with 
usury  some  day,  you  know  !  " 

Carus  takes  out  his  cheque-book  and  writes  without 
a  murmur.  His  lordship  has  found  out  to  a  sovereign 
how   much   he   may    venture  to  ask. 

Rev  vie  and  Alegsy  are  happv  at  the  old  house.  Rev  vie 
is  buying  books  a  score  at  a  time,  having  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  more  money  than  he  knows  what  to  do 
with.  Alegsy  is  up  at  the  Great  House  every  day,  and 
has  the  poore'st  opinion  of  the  way  the  nursery  is  con- 
ducted. Anders  does  most  of  the  work  about  the  old 
house  of  Arioland,  and  every  week  bides  to  "speer" 
Megsy,  who  has  not  vet  consented  to  let  him  have  his 
name  on  her  stone  in  the  kirk-yard.  But  Anders  does 
not  despair.  "Some  day,"  he  says,  "I'll  catch  her  afF 
the  fang,  and  she  '11  promise  afore  she  kens  where  she  is. 
If  I  leevc  lang  eneugh  I  shall  yet  sec  on  her  tomb  the 
words  *■  Margaret  MacQuaker,  wife  of  Anders  '  !  " 

As  for  Hester  and  Carus  they  arc  lovely  and  pleasant 
in  their  lives,  and  their  sole  prayer  is  that  in  their  deaths 
they  be  not  divided. 

THE    F.ND 


28 


433 


\ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 

■'A     ■■  'CO 

ro-uRB 

m4 

1 

JUN 

3  1974 

wl  m^^ 

Bl8c: 

MAR  18 

1982 

4wl%t'8 

fc 

JUN19 

1996 

1 

Form  L9-32m-8,'58(5876s4 

)444 

r^i^ 


pRARY  FACILITY 

iliiiilinlll 


•1 


AA      000  308  797    0 


>i 


